


Caramel and Freckles

by Sakurai_Ai



Series: Caramel and Freckles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Kink, Alternate Universe - Office, Aphenphosmphobia, Light BDSM, M/M, OCD, Possessive Dean Winchester, Safe Sane and Consensual, Teacher Castiel, Therapist Dean, Touch Phobia, Touch-Starved Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 53,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakurai_Ai/pseuds/Sakurai_Ai
Summary: Aphenphosmphobia; the morbid and irrational fear of touches being touched. People with this phobia despise any sort of physical contact.Castiel Novak was an aphen. And to top that off, he had a high grade level of OCD, anxiety and was always having panic attacks.He worked as an English teacher at his local school, and found that having something to focus on helped him work through his phobias.Unfortunately, one problem, one small drop over a stupid cup of tea forced his Academic Director to raise her hand, and force Castiel to go to a psychiatrist.A gorgeous psychiatrist. One Dean Winchester. A man, Castiel found, made all of his problems disappear.Has he finally found his anchor?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had been posting chapters, but here is the whole fic, finished!  
> It’s here!!  
> Just so you guys understand my enthusiasm, I’ve been writing this fic on and off for the past few years now. It’s very personal to me.  
> I suffer from aphenphosmphobia, OCD and anxiety, so Castiel’s character is a fantastical view of what I have been through in my life, and therein myself if I were ever in this situation.
> 
> There is a book version [(on amazon)](https://www.amazon.com/Caramel-Freckles-Aisha-Ayub-ebook/dp/B0195GFX6A) written by yours truly.

It was hell.

Castiel Novak narrowed his true-blue eyes at the steaming hot cup of tea on the immaculately clean counter in front of him

He knew it was stupid, he knew he was being neurotic, obsessive and downright compulsive. But as he stared at the white mug on his kitchen counter that wasn’t his usual mug, he knew that everything around him was wrong.

He had to reprimand himself. The tea was the same, the amount of sugar, milk and water was at the same level of measurement as it was every morning. Everything was going exactly the way he wanted it whenever he made tea.

Except.

That wasn’t his mug.

Sure he had bought it for himself, when emergencies such as this morning came to light, but even when he bought it, he knew, deep down inside, this was definitely going to happen.

And it was making his insides turn.

Letting out a long breath, counting out slowly from ten to zero, he closed his eyes and reached out for the white porcelain. Maybe if he forced himself, he could pretend that it was his normal mug and not this monstrosity.

Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating a little. His neurosis was always an annoying part of his life. He knew he was being over the top about everything, but he couldn’t help it. One change to his routine, no matter how small, and his skin wouldn’t stop crawling until it was fixed.

It didn’t help that it took over his life.

His family understood his problems, understood the need for him to have things the way they were supposed to be. They usually left him to do his own thing because they had seen the drop. They had seen his anger, his sadness, his fear, his ferocity when something wasn’t done the way he had expected, the way he was used to.

But he saw the strain in his mothers’ eyes, the tired lines on his fathers’ face. He was being a pest, he knew it. But he just couldn’t help it.

They had taken his to therapists, to doctors, everything that they could afford. After extensive tests, they told him he wasn’t what he had expected to be, a germaphobe. No, that would have been too easy. There were treatments for that. Easy and quick treatments. Treatments that wouldn’t take over his whole life.

He was something else entirely. The doctors called it “aphenphosmphobia”, the fear of touching others and being touched by others. But normal bouts of this phobia could be cured, be it through drugs or therapy. But he had none of the triggers as other sufferers.

Oh no, nothing was ever that simple. Without an actual trigger, there wasn’t much they could do to treat him. The phobia was problematic to both genders, so that ruled out sexual assault. But to be honest, he hadn’t even been kissed yet, let alone anything else.

Drugs were out of the question for him because he was just too young when it first happened and his allergy to penicillin prevented any real solid help. And he’d rather suffer than spend the rest of his life depending on short lasting drugs. What if he was in an elevator when the medicine wore off? He’d have a full blown panic attack.

Mixed with his obsessive compulsive need to be clean and have things done a certain way, he was a real treat to be with.

Castiel scoffed.

As the years went by, the doctors said nothing could help him. It was all in his head. He’d have to get over his trauma by himself. Self-will and all that crap.

But, nothing would make him ‘normal’.

So as soon as he was old enough, he left for university.

It was a horrendous experience. The rooms were unclean, the showers were always freezing cold and the beds and sheets could do with a slow and thorough sterilisation. The classrooms weren’t all that helpful either. The seats in the lecture rooms and classrooms were always so close together that he could feel the very heat of the person sitting next to him. And people always sidled up _way_ to close to him. The feeling of being pricked by a million pins at their very touch made him shiver in pain and disgust.

But it allowed Castiel to get used to what he called ‘the real world’.

It didn’t lessen his neurosis a bit, but at least now he was able to cope, able to understand that the white cup sitting on the kitchen counter held the same tea he would drink every morning. It was just in a different mug.

That’s all. It’s just in a different, horrid, dirty (even though he had thoroughly cleaned it) sparkly white, retched, unfamiliar—

Damn it. He couldn’t afford to drop now!

The tea was slowly cooling before his very eyes, and he knew he didn’t have enough time to do this. He needed to get to work. He needed to pick up the cup, drink the tea, wash the cup once he was done, clean it, dry it, and then get to work.

“Castiel Novak,” He said to himself. “Pick up the bloody mug!”

~~

Castiel stepped out of his house a few minutes later, having lost to the mug that wasn’t his usual one. He pined for his broken cup sitting in the large bins outside of his house. He’d have to go and buy another one that looked exactly the same as his previous one.

That meant his day was going to be considerably longer than he had anticipated, which meant his entire schedule for the day would be ruined.

Damn it.

Juggling with the large black box in his hand that held all of his lesson plans and teaching equipment, he fished out his keys and locked his front door. He upturned his coat collars, shielding the bottom half of his face from the pattering rain and rushed to his car.

Pulling his car door open with a gruff sigh, he sat inside and sucked in a long breath. His car smelled familiar, and he felt all his problems and lack of his usual morning tea slowly melt down from a boil to a simmer.

He drove out into the calm streets, letting the sound of rain hitting the roof of his car lull him into a sense of equilibrium. He needed this short time to let out all of his frustrations of not having the morning go as planned before he stood in front of a classroom full of students and lashed out at them.

If he didn’t…well, he had only just gotten used to his job, his students, colleagues and the many people around him. It would be hell if he had to do that all over again.

It was really hard making new friends when all he could think about was how they weren’t familiar, weren’t clean, weren’t…safe.

Reaching to the school he parked in his usual space, seeing that, surprisingly even with the internal battle of his mind versus the mug that wasn’t his usual familiar mug, he was on time.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he picked up his black box from the passenger seat and headed into the rain to the entrance of the large school building. His thick rimmed glasses were slowly getting waterlogged with raindrops, but at least everything else was slowly slotting back in to place. He would be fine. He can get over going off-balance.

Snap!

His shoe had chosen that point in his already bad day to give way under his foot and the small heel broke off. He gasped out in pain as his ankle twisted.

Fuck!

His shoes! His new, clean, black oxford shoes that he had bought only a few days ago! They were completely ruined now!

Trying to gain balance on his, now twisted ankle, his black socked foot thudded onto the wet slab of concrete and tar with a low squelch.

Castiel hissed at the sudden pain. Forcing it to the back of his mind, he looked down to his now soaked socks.

Oh god, oh god, no! No! His socks were all wet now!

With a low growl, he pulled off his other shoe and trudged through the car park and into the school building, grimacing at every squelch his feet made against the cold tar ground.

Shit. It was too late now, he was dropping. Hard and fast. He could feel the anger course through him, his fingers clenched against the plastic of his teaching box.

He’d have to find his academic director and tell the man he wouldn’t be able to teach the first session of the morning class. Not without him screaming at his students.

He’d be better in an hour or so when he had a chance to vent his frustrations out on something. Music usually helped, especially if it was a playlist he was familiar with pounding into his mind. When he focused on music, he didn’t have to focus on anything else.

But now, he just wanted to go home. Be somewhere that felt familiar, safe, something that he was used to. Something that felt like home.

Maybe he could spend his drop in his car?

It’d only take a few hours…

He was thankful that his Academic Director, Sam Winchester, understood his demise. He never questioned Castiel. Not that Castiel ever had any of his harder drops in the school. He always made sure he had an excuse to leave for the day, handy when something like that ever happened. Usually he was able to quell those certain drops until he got to the safety of his home.

Castiel was surprised how he still had a steady job for almost five years. He must have been doing something right.

But the handsome Sam Winchester did nothing to help Castiel’s problems at all. For instance, Sam loved to eat croissants with strawberry jam for breakfast in the mornings, it was usually eaten in a rush in his office, but he always had a small piece of the flaky bread on his lips after he’d finish. That sight infuriated Castiel to no end. His fingers itched at the very need to take that offending piece of food off, to clean Sam, to make everything better. Castiel’s skin would crawl, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to smile as Sam would talk to him.

Sometimes Castiel thought Sam did that just to piss him off!

Jostling his shoes and box into his hands, he trudged into the building. Steering clear of the elevators – he detested those small, cramped coffins that held so many people. Everyone squished into those metal compartments in the morning, wanting to get to their classes quickly. All sweaty and close.

He didn’t want to go near those death traps. The large box staircase was his friend in more ways than one. Not only did they allow him to see who was coming or going, the ones in the school were large enough for him to meander around people, making sure he didn’t touch them.

But therein lay the problem. At the moment, with his arms full of his teaching equipment, his other hand holding his broken shoes and his bag. He couldn’t reach for anything to help him clean his waterlogged glasses. And the heating the school provided did nothing to help. His glasses fogged up, making it impossible for him to see properly.

All in all, he was having a very bad start to the day.

He stepped slowly towards the stairs, memorising where they were from having walked up and down the same stairs every day. Slowly, ever so slowly, peering up above his misty glasses to the brown and white blur, he let out an aggravated sigh.

He was pretty much blind without his glasses.

But, he thought to himself. All he needed to do was get up these stairs, get safely into the teachers’ lounge, place his box on his desk, fish out his pack of tissues, hope that they were dry enough, and clean his glasses. He’d see to the shoe dilemma later.

“Mr. Novak,” a familiar male voice said from behind him.

Sam Winchester.

Castiel winced at the loud squelch his wet feet made when he turned to see the handsome and extremely tall dark haired man making his way up the staircase. Sam all but flounced before Castiel.

“Mr. Winchester,” Castiel replied. Good, now he didn’t have to seek Sam out.

Sam brushed back his shoulder length dark locks framing his handsome face and smiled brightly. Sometimes Castiel hated how obviously pretty he was.

“I’m glad I caught you,” God, even his voice was pretty, all deep and seductive. Women fell to their knees when he spoke. And it irked Castiel, not that he’d ever admit he was jealous of the gorgeous AD. But the man always had someone vying for his affections. _And_ he didn’t have to go through Castiel’s problems.

Okay, so maybe Castiel was a little bit jealous.

“I’m glad you caught me to,” Castiel said straightforwardly.

Sam’s face fell to curiosity and concern. He let his eyes drop down to the broken shoes in his hands and then to Castiel’s soaked socks. Sure enough Castiel wasn’t wearing any shoes and there was a wet trail of footprints leading from the entrance to the stairs.

Sam leaned in closer and whispered. “Are you experiencing a drop?”

Castiel nodded, embarrassed at his predicament. “I’ll be okay for second session, if Charlie—”

“Consider it done,” Sam said suddenly, clapping his hands together. “I was hoping to speak with you this morning,”

Curiosity peaked. What was Sam going to make him do now? Extra classes? Extra grading? Examination monitoring? Or…oh god, teacher training?

“I have someone for you,” Sam looked down at Castiel and tsked. He took the shoes from Castiel’s grasp and stepped up the stairs in that same feline grace Castiel wished he had.

Castiel let out a long breath. Now his nights would be filled with training a new teacher.

What if he had to take time out of his immaculately made schedule to help this person? Great. Castiel wasn’t fond of another person so close to him, sitting next to him, monitoring the way he worked in and out of classes. It made his skin crawl.

The last teacher he trained barely made it out of his first class. Castiel wasn’t very strict with his ways, but he liked everything to be in a certain order – otherwise he’d drop, and…well that’s not something he wanted everyone to know about.

That teacher in training didn’t really understand how everything worked. Even though Castiel had spent the better half of the morning meeting explaining the ins and outs of classes, lesson planning, having activities on call if something ever went wrong or even if everything went right.

It was a surprise to see how, even though Castiel had specifically asked the trainee teacher to put his USB stick – which held all of his lessons for that week – in his teachers’ box so he could get to it straight away, the trainee had failed to do something so simple.

It almost cost the entire lesson. Castiel had to scramble and think on his feet while the idiot trainee rushed back to the teachers’ lounge and went through his things to try and find it. Like the impromptu lesson wasn’t bad enough, when Castiel returned to his desk, he almost threw a fit at the mess the trainee had created.

Castiel followed Sam up the rest of the steps. “Is it a teacher?”

“Well, he does need to be taught a few lessons,” Castiel didn’t have to see his face to know Sam had that familiar smirk on his lips. That little smile never bade well for Castiel. “He’ll be with you for the foreseeable future,”

“Foreseeable future?” Oh shit. Castiel’s bad day was just about to get worse. Teachers were one thing. But this? Was he going to be monitored? Had he done something wrong? Had his students complained? “Why does OFSTED want to watch me?”

“Not OFSTED,” Sam let out a chuckle as they reached the top step. “Just someone interested in you, I think he might be able to help you out,”

Castiel juggled the things in his hand and followed. Sam was being cryptic and that was never ever a good sign.

And how long was ‘foreseeable future’ anyway?

“Morning Angel!” A voice bellowed from the bottom of the steps.

Castiel smiled at the familiar nickname. It was one of his students, Anna Milton.

His students had started calling him Angel a few weeks into his first year of working at the school. And the name had stuck throughout the years. Castiel loved making up alternate realities in his lessons, many that fell into all sorts of fandoms. His students were always eager to learn and almost all of them excelled in their exams. That and he always had a horde of candy and sweets on his to hand out to his students when they achieved beyond what was expected of them.

It was only after one hectic morning, where he had gotten a slight crick on his shoulders and spent the remainder of that day rolling his shoulders – or ‘wings’ as his students called it – that they had started calling him Angel.

He turned to his student, wanting to return the greeting. But he slammed into something big, hard and incredibly warm. His wet socked feet squeaked on the polished floors and he lost his footing, feeling himself fall back to the swell of the stairs. His box flew from his hands, the papers falling like confetti.

Oh god. He was going to die.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel’s eyes clenched tight, his body taut in fear as he waited for his body to impact the hard wood ground.

But it didn’t.

He peeked through one eye, his vision blurry. His glasses were not on his nose anymore. God only knew where they had landed, and he didn’t have a spare. But that didn’t stop the gasp that escaped his lips. His body was elevated at the top of the stairs, his papers gliding down to Sam. The tall man looked up at Castiel with a surprised grin before kneeling down to pick up the mess – along with many of the other early rising students milling up the stairs.

That’s when Castiel felt it, a tingling, pin pricking sensation on his wrist and hand. It was surprisingly more docile than he was used to. Odd. Someone was holding him up. He turned and saw dark hair and a flash of iridescent green before he was pulled into the tall mans’ muscular embrace.

Oh…my…

He was so warm. Oh…so warm. His arms were wrapped around Castiel’s whole body, holding him close and safe. He could hear the thrumming of the man’s heart beating under the stretch of his button up shirt. Castiel sucked in a deep breath of flowers and some sort of motor oil and the feeling of  _ home.  _ Before he felt the pin pricks ripple all over his body. The pain came in suddenly, but it was a very different feeling…it wasn’t freezing cold like he was used to. It was hot, like fire consuming him, licking almost calmly at his skin. His body shivered. This was a very different feeling.

With a quiet yelp, Castiel pulled away from the tall mans’ grasp, his body tilted back and he felt himself falling again down the steps. Instinctively Castiel reached for the man, tugging at the lapels of his blazer to try and stop his impending fall. He could barely hear Sam yell for the man not to touch him.

The man let out a confused “huh” and pulled Castiel back to him. The man’s grasp was much tighter on him now. One of his large hands pressed at the small of Castiel’s back and the other on the back of his neck. Oh…Castiel shivered again.

He lifted his up, his tip-toed feet barely skimming the wooden floor. His body pressed against the man’s hard, lean one. Castiel’s was face to face with him, staring directly into his deep dark green eyes.

_ Home… _

Castiel let out a gasp and his heart jumped to his throat. The gorgeously tall man slowly twisted his body around and dropped Castiel down next to him.

“Relax,” His voice was low, gravel like, when he spoke and Castiel felt his body obeying instantly. “I’ve got you,”

_ Yes… _

Castiel took a good look at him, his dark green eyes boring into Castiel’s blue, dominating and demanding, his thin nose, plump bow-shaped lips, high cheekbones dusted lightly with freckles. Oh…Castiel had the urge to count those sunlit freckles.

How easy it was to stare at this man. Castiel gaze ran down to the man’s chin, his long neck and white collared shirt. He wore a thin tie, the colour matching his candy green eyes.

Shit…his tie. His tie was crooked.

Suddenly, everything that had gone wrong for Castiel that morning, the tea, the rain, his shoes, his papers, the handsome man and his goddamned crooked tie. He felt the drop before it happened, the feeling of needles pricking over his skin, his blood pumping fast, his eyes dilating until only thin rings of blue remained. His blood boiled in anger.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Fix it! Fix it!  _ Fix it! _

Castiel’s hands rose from the lapels of the man’s suit and gripped at his neck tight. He felt the man stiffen against him as his fingers tugged at the tie, straightening the offending piece of material against the pristine white of his collared neck.

Damn, Castiel loved a man in a suit.

He narrowed his gaze, seeing confusion swirling in the man’s eyes. Castiel wanted to thank the man for saving him, press himself closer to his tall body and just take a long sniff of his delicious scent, count those adorable freckles spattered on his nose and cheeks.

But no…his stupid, asinine neurosis had his skin crawling, his pupils dilating, his breathing coming out in heavy pants against his face.

Everything was going wrong! Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!

“Don’t touch me, assbutt,” Castiel seethed quietly, pushing his saviour back. Settling his feet down on the ground, he winced at his sprained ankle. Fuck. This was not what he needed. This wasn’t helping him at all.

He felt the tall mans’ strong arms swoop around his waist and lift him up so Castiel was cradled in his arms, bridal style. Castiel tensed up immediately. He must be heavy! But this man was holding his weight so easily.

“You’re hurt,” The man murmured to him. Castiel barely had a chance to gaze over his shoulder at Sam, who was swiftly making it up the rest of the stairs. Castiel let out a small breath of relief when he saw that Sam had picked up all of his fallen papers.

Right now Sam was the only one who could properly explain to this man how and why Castiel had changed from meek to completely pissed off is a matter of seconds. Castiel would most likely scream at him and call him all sorts of names.

But, surprisingly he didn’t feel the drop as hard as he usually did. Right now, he wasn’t feeling his usual lightning streak of cold shivers and pounding headaches. He instead felt warm, in this man’s embrace he felt the shivers calm down.

Castiel barely heard Sam tell him to come to his office when he was done.

_ Fuck! _ He did this every single time. Every time Castiel met a handsome man. This is not what he wanted! Why had he let his mouth run away from him? This gorgeous green eyed hottie looked like such a nice guy. Incredibly handsome,  _ really _ tall, warm and smelling delicious. His dream man, come to life before his very eyes. And yet Castiel had yelled at him, cursed him.

This man had saved him from what would most certainly have been his death. But it was too much. Everything was going wrong that morning. And he just…couldn’t help himself but yell at the nice, tall, handsome man.

Damn he was handsome.

_ Fuck! _ He had made a mess of everything now.

The man strode easily passed the teachers’ lounge and down the long, thankfully empty, hallway. Jostling Castiel in his arms, he pushed the door open to the nurses’ office. The room was completely empty as well, Castiel noticed. All of the staff would be in the teachers’ lounge for the morning meeting. Including the school nurse.

The man pushed the door closed behind them with a resounding thud and placed Castiel down carefully on his socked feet. Castiel felt his entire world tilt. What was happening?

He looked up at the man and his heart stuttered. Castiel was never the type of guy who was easily aroused. Usually the very thought of exchanging bodily fluids with another repulsed him to no end. But this man had the kind of smile that made the temperature around him soar. Castiel let his gaze travel over the man’s body once again, he looked hopelessly gorgeous. It wasn’t fair. Castiel didn’t understand the desperate need to just…touch him.

Even with his neurosis screaming in his head, telling him that the tie was still slightly crooked, and now his collar and the lapels of his blazer was also askew, thanks to his own fingers.

Castiel didn’t dare touch him though.

He didn’t know who this man was. What if he was a parent to one of his students? Or part of the academic committee? Sam had said someone was coming to watch him. His sudden manhandling this man– like he desperately wanted to – might get him fired.

And he definitely didn’t want that.

In fact, Castiel didn’t want to move away from him. Which was odd considering Castiel’s drops’ usually made him want to rip his skin off every time someone came close to him.

“You’re safe now,” The man’s voice was deeper now, very sexy.

He stretched his muscular arm around Castiel, beckoning him to his warm embrace. Castiel drifted unconsciously to him. The response was instant and total. Submissive. He gazed up at the man’s gorgeous face in innocent wonder.

What was this man doing to him?

He felt the falter in his neurosis, his drop was rising. He hadn’t hit subspace, the place he’d go to when he was calm, relaxed and completely pliant and happy. But the longer he stayed in this man’s arms, the quicker he felt himself rising. His eyes were still dilated and his heart beat was still erratic. There was no answer to why that was.

_ But he wasn’t feeling his drop. _ In fact, he wasn’t feeling…anything bad at all. He was…calm, warm, safe…happy.

This man was the perfect anchor. Castiel had never thought he’d find one, someone who would bring him back to earth instead of having to ride out his drops alone.

The man’s luminous green eyes were serious, boring inexorably into his dark blue, his breath warm on Castiel’s face. Castiel felt his body lean into him, his back arching, his height barely reaching the taller man’s shoulders. He marvelled in the closeness, the warmth. The feeling of home. When was the last time he ever had someone this close to him without his neurosis rearing its ugly head? He couldn’t remember.

He didn’t touch Castiel, but he was so very close that Castiel burned. Oh, the heat of him!

Castiel sucked in a ragged breath, taking in his scent.  _ More. _ His mind screamed at him, he wanted more of this man, this stranger who appeared out of nowhere. He wanted to scream in aggravation, desperate to tip toe up and push himself into this man. Just feel him, chest to chest, his fingers running through Castiel’s hair, his back, as he pulled Castiel closer. Those perfect, sensuous bow shaped lips pressed against his.

_ What…the fuck is going on? _

Castiel had to strain his neck to look up at the man, into those dark swirling green eyes that stole his very soul. He couldn’t take it, he moaned harsh and deep, wanting, pleading desperately for more.

“One thing at a time,” The man chuckled, his voice hummed through Castiel, making him shiver.

He set Castiel down onto the bed set, his fingers barely ghosting over Castiel’s skin as he pulled up his black slacks and reached up to the top hem of the Castiel’s socks and pulled them slowly off.

Castiel sucked in a deep breath. It was odd, he was still in his drop, could still feel everything. But instead of seeing everything as wrong, something broken that needed to be fixed, it was alive with sensation, with passion. His voice tickled Castiel’s senses, his presence scraped Castiel’s raw nerves. He was temptation, and Castiel was addicted.

Oh…what was he doing?

He barely felt something wrap around his ankle. Opening his eyes – when had he closed them? – Castiel looked down and saw the man wrapping a bandage around his injured ankle. He looked up at Castiel, his dark green eyes boring into Castiel’s, and Castiel forgot how to breathe.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” He whispered so quietly against Castiel’s skin that Castiel barely heard him. His hot breath felt delicious brushing past Castiel’s ear.

Castiel tried to make sense of what this man was saying, but his thoughts were destroyed when those fingers hovered over the skin of his arm. He reached up for Castiel, but his hands tightened into fists. His intense gaze silenced Castiel’s gasp of surprise.

“Get off me, you assbutt!”


	3. Chapter 3

_I am such an idiot…_

The morning was slowly settling into the afternoon, yet the dark clouds were still swirling with light patters of spring rain. The teachers’ lounge was pretty much empty, except for a few wayward teachers and substitutes who were waiting for the next classes to start.

Castiel limped weakly to his desk, having all but brushed the enigmatic man from him and ran, well limped, as fast as he could, hoping the lounge would be full enough for the gorgeous man to be deterred by other people.

Oh god…he was becoming infatuated with this man. His innocent smile, his alluring candy green eyes, his deep voice. The smooth nape of his neck, his wide, sloping shoulders, his muscular arms and long fingers that Castiel could still feel on his skin. He still couldn’t get those fathomless green eyes out from his mind.

What was this man doing to him? Castiel didn’t even know his name!

He stumbled onto his desk, smiling at the neatly piled teachers’ box where it usually sat in his small cubicle. Sam knew exactly where he liked his things. On top of the teachers box was a small white envelope.

He reached for it, seeing his name written in cursive. Castiel gasped. It was perfectly written, each line on his name and work address neat, immaculately so. Who was this perfect sender?

Intrigued, he turned it over, hoping to see a return address, but instead saw nothing but the creamy white. Even the tab was stuck pristinely against the letter, no bubble or tear in sight.

It was…a very exciting sight for Castiel to see. He always grimaced when he saw ordinary letters, the words jumbled, the letter sizes in disarray, the tabs barely stuck on, or worse, stuck on with tape.

Should he open it now? Curiosity getting the better of him, Castiel slowly peeled the letter open, ready to pull out the crisp letter.

“And we’re back to the teachers’ lounge,” A familiar female voice said from the doorway. Looking over his cubicle, Castiel grimaced at his saviour and the pretty blonde teacher, Jo walking into the room.

He felt the man’s dark green eyes zone in on him, Castiel stuffed the letter into his bag, his cheeks turning pink. _He’s staring at me!_

Castiel grimaced loudly, thudding his head down onto his desk. He wasn’t going to be any help to anyone right now, not until he was able to force his drop to stop. Thankfully, because of his green-eyed saviour, that time would be halved.

But, everyone knew not to come near him when he was like this.

Well, almost everyone.

Castiel heard the low timbre of his saviour who had sought to stand by the coffee machine in the corner of the room, just a few desks away from his own. He was talking to one of the other teachers, the pretty blonde Jo. Even though they were whispering to one another, the room was eerily empty, the other teachers in their classes, meaning Castiel could hear them word for word. That and he had _that_ voice. The kind of voice that made Castiel’s insides flutter, his toes curl, his breath quicken… the man’s voice was so _delicious_.

Castiel needed to understand what was going on. Why was he not feeling his drop? He knew he had definitely dropped before, and for less than this. But…the only difference from a normal day was _him_. What was it about that man?

“Is he always like that?”

Castiel seethed through his haze. No, he wasn’t _always_ like this. That idiot man didn’t even know him. Sure their first meeting had ended up with Castiel calling him a ‘dick’ and an ‘ass butt’. But he was a good person. He was a teacher for crying out loud.

Castiel sighed out loud at that thought. He was such an idiot.

“Nah, he’s usually a sweetheart, you just caught him on a bad morning,” Jo stated, she didn’t know about Castiel’s neurosis, his drops. She just thought he had a lot of off-days.

Jo let out a quaint laugh when she saw a young brunette student peering through the glass door of the teachers’ lounge.

Seeing Jo, the young student smiled tentatively. “Is Angel here?”

Jo giggled and nodded, turning to the dark haired teacher who had built a kind of books and papers fort around his desk. His head was down on the table. “Castiel, incoming,”

He heard the man try to hold in a chuckle as Castiel lifted his head from the table, his hair was a mess and framed around his face, and there was a paperclip stuck to his cheek from where he had been resting on it.

Ignoring him, Castiel motioned for Jess to let the student in. The brunette bounced into the room and settled down in front of Castiel.

“Hey Alex,” Castiel said, peeling the paperclip off his face with a slight wince, knowing it had left a mark on his skin. He quickly fixed his hair to his liking and looked up to the pretty brunette student, one of the best in his classes, Alexandra Little. “How can I help you today?”

“Are you doing okay?” Alexandra asked, tilting her head to one side with utter concern for her teacher. “You weren’t in class this morning,”

“Just testing my precious students, Alex,” Castiel said lightly, forcing a smile through his drop. “I need to make sure you can cope without me,”

“That’s not possible,” Alex said with a laugh.

“This is not why you’re here,” Castiel waved his hand in dismissal. “So, what’s up?”

Alex’s gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers clenched around the small writing book she was holding in his hands. “It’s about the project,”

“Ah? Is it not good enough?” Castiel seemed a little scared now. The project work he had set for his class was supposed to be an easy end-of-term session that would bring everything they had learned that term together. If one of his best and brightest couldn’t complete it, he was definitely doing something wrong.

“It’s not the project per say,” Alex shook her head, letting out a brave breath and tried again. “I can’t work with Malik,”

“Malik Beal?”

Alex’s eyes widened at the name and she nodded. “I’m sorry, I know it’s due on Friday.”

Castiel held a hand to his chin, deep in thought. “Have you both had a falling out?”

“Not really,” Alex muttered slowly, looking away. “I just can’t…focus,” Castiel quirked his eyebrow, asking her to continue. “Every time we sit down to do it, I can’t stop looking at his stupid face, with his stupid kohl eyes and stupid colourful hair, and then he does that thing with his pen in his mouth and I just—”

“Alex, stop.” Castiel interrupted, holding a hand up. Did Alexandra even understand what she was insinuating? Did she even know she was crushing on Malik? With the flabbergasted look, Castiel didn’t think so. “This project is important to your grades, you need to do this.”

“I know, but I just—“

Alexandra was interrupted by Sam calling Castiel into his office. Castiel nodded at Sam and turned to his student again. “Look, it’s too late to change partners. Take the classroom after school today, talk to Malik and _finish your project_.”

He gave a sympathetic look to his student and motioned for her to get to her next class. Alexandra let out a long sigh and nodded.

Sucking in a deep breath, Castiel stood from his seat, wincing at the slight pain in his ankle, and made his way to Sam’s office. Stepping in, he saw his gorgeous green eyed saviour sitting in one of the seats by the desk. Sam motioned for Castiel to sit next to him.

He could do this.

His saviour stood when he passed, holding his hand out for Castiel to shake. He looked at it, then to the man’s dark eyes. His gaze darted to Sam, hoping Sam would be able to explain why shaking Castiel’s hand was a bad idea.

Sam let out a quaint giggle. “Castiel Novak, meet Dean Winchester,”

Castiel nodded and took a seat on the hard school chair wincing at the screech it made against the tiled floor. “Winchester, as in…”

“My older brother,”

Castiel sucked in a breath. Fuck. Now he was going to be fired.

Castiel took in a deep breath, trying to control his sudden erratic heart beat that was forcing him to focus on the small piece of croissant Sam had on the edge of his lips from his hurried breakfast, to his small laptop was teetering too close to the edge of the table, making space for the papers that were disarray on his desk.

No. Castiel shook his head of such thoughts, repressing his neurosis as far back in his mind as it was willing to go. He needed to focus on not getting fired from yet another job! “Please, just let me explain—”

Sam smiled brightly, his teeth were shiny and straight, gleaming in a way that Castiel knew would mean bad news for him.

“The summer holidays are next week. And I need you to work on your—” Sam paused, Castiel narrowed his gaze, urging him to say it, say what everyone else was too polite to say to his face. “—problem,”

 _Fuck,_ Castiel hated that word. _Problem,_ like it was something that he could easily fix with a flick of his hand or a large wad of cash thrown in the right direction.

It wasn’t a problem, per say. It was his stupid mind not agreeing with the rest of him. Castiel had spent his entire childhood trying to fix this “problem”, spent all of his money to try and find a way around it. But the doctors told him it was all in his mind, it was something he had to do for himself. They wouldn’t be able to help him until he helped himself.

Yeah, it wasn’t that easy. Castiel was all alone through this. It wasn’t possible to go “cold turkey” on something that affected his mind directly. He had no outlet, nothing that he could physically stop injecting or ingesting. It was a tricky matter and with no one there to help him, it was impossible.

He couldn’t afford carers and nurses. Not on his measly salary.

So all he could do was nod and agree with Sam, because he needed money to live. Maybe Sam knew a way to help him?

“What do you suggest?” Castiel asked, not really holding any more hope.

Sam’s hands flourished in a small circle and landed on Dean. The handsome man smiled and let out a little wave.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, just changing the chapter sequence so it makes sense (because I'm an idiot)

Fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_

“Pull the laces over, then under, then pull it tight, make a bow, pull it through, do it right this time,” Castiel muttered under his breath as he tied his shoelaces. His usual Oxfords shoes were still broken, and he wasn’t touching his new shoes. They were loud, colourful and had ostentatious laces. No way, no how.  He needed to tell his aunt that he didn’t wear shoes like that.

Too bad he sucked as socialising.

He slid the cupboard door that held the racks of his colourful shoes over, hearing a resounding thud. Without his usual shoes, all he had now were his runners and his trainers, which were slowly trying to destroy him. He cursed when the laces came away again. He untied them and did it again, pulling against the strings tight. Nope. Still not right, they weren’t the same length. He sighed and pulled on the laces again. Pull the laces over, then under, then pull it tight, make a bow—

He huffed in annoyance, giving up the whole affair. He tossed the shoes aside. Then reached over and righted them, putting them away in their spot on the rack, making sure they were perfectly aligned before looking for the rest of his small collection of shoes.

With a loud sigh, he settled for his usual trainers, sitting back on the steps and getting back to work. Thankfully his first try was a complete success, it was Velcro after all. With his shoes finally to satisfaction, he slung on his satchel and double checked the papers inside, before checking again. He gritted his teeth and took one last check before settling the back securely on his shoulders.

With his car out of commission, because he was a complete idiot and hadn't put any fuel in the tank that morning. He had been anxious, and that....man.

No! Stop it stupid brain.

But without a car, and his anxiety to use public transport, Castiel opted instead to walk. It was a rather nice day out. The sun was shining, but it was a little windy. He didn’t like not knowing what the weather would be like, but he had stopped listening to the radio and watching the weather on TV, because the usually predicted wrong. This was why he opted to wear a long trench coat over his shirt and jeans attire.

It took him a while, but he eventually made it to the coffee shop he frequented every other day, exactly five hundred and eighty three steps away from his house. It was busy inside, the rush of the morning, students and business people alike waiting for their coffee fixes. It made his a little nervous. He wasn’t socially anxious, not really, but the amount of people in the room and the high risk of being touched by them made him grimace. How was he going to get through without touching anyone?

The line wasn’t long, and he had been preoccupied with the clasp on his bag, closing it and opening it, again and again and again. He didn’t check it back at the house. He reached the front counter and was greeted by a familiar smile.

The one reason he came to this coffee shop was because of this pretty blonde woman. Ellen Harvelle, she knew and understood Castiel’s psychosis. She was the only one who was patient with him.

Ellen smiled brightly, actually happy that Castiel was here, not many people thought that after they had met Castiel. “Hey, Castiel,”

Her smile was pretty, but slightly crooked on one side, and her tag was askew. As was her apron, the ties weren’t completely level. Castiel felt a bubble of unwanted heat erupt inside him. Damn it. Ellen is a good person! Don’t get frustrated at her!

“Hello, Hello, Hello—Hi.”

‘Hi’ would do, and the barista’s grin didn’t waver. She knew Castiel, knew enough to look down at her outfit and straighten out all that she could.

Castiel let out a relieved breath. “The usual?”

Castiel nodded and reached into his pocket, where his wallet lied safe.

“£5, even.”

He and the barista had worked this exchange out when he had first moved here. One crisp, new bill, no change and no receipts. Castiel never knew what to do with spare bits of paper. It just cluttered his bag, and he hated not being able to find something in his bag on the first glance.

Castiel paid and shuffled to the side, waiting for his tea and cinnamon roll. He chatted to the barista a little, telling hier about the classes he had taught. The barista nodded, adding her own comments. She presented Castiel with his order. Hot tea in a paper cup and cinnamon roll on a small china plate. Castiel had come to trust this particular barista, so instead of checking the plate for any signs of uncleanliness, he thanked her and made his way to find a seat.

He was little disappointed to see someone already sitting in his usual seat, a corner table meant for two people. It was the man from before, Mr. Dean Winchester.

Castiel hesitated a little, they didn’t really know each other that well to sit together. He knew he’d be more acquainted with Dean later. He just didn’t think now was the best time.

What if Dean wanted to stay professional? Sitting next to him might ruin everything.

Wait…Castiel had _already_ ruined everything.

He winced inwardly, remembering their first meeting, and Castiel calling him a dick and an assbutt. Why was he so bad at this?

Not wanting to embarrass himself further, Castiel sat down on the neighbouring table, discomfort rising at this change to his usual ritual. It wasn’t that he was attached to that particular table…well, it was just…he kind of was.

A quick disinfecting wipe later, Castiel settled into the chair and set his satchel onto the table beside his food and drink. He took a small sip, it was still too hot, and pulled out his laptop. He could do this at home, of course, but he had rarely left his home in the past few weeks, other than going to his job and the grocery store. And now, this coffee shop.

Castiel realised, he needed some social interaction. Even if it did just mean getting a coffee from a familiar barista.

He was in the process of retyping a sentence for his lesson plan when he realised someone was watching him. He looked up and caught candy green eyes staring back at him.

Dean Winchester.

Dean looked away quickly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. So, he had stolen Castiel’s seat and now he was staring at him?

Castiel was a little confused, until Dean looked up at him again, catching his gaze and smiled shyly at him.

 _Oh._ Castiel thought to himself. _He’s interested in me?_

Well, Dean did know him. It wasn’t really what Castiel was expecting, he did have friends, acquaintances, colleagues, whatever. And he had met them in various situations. But it was funny that he would get to be in such a cliché meeting in a coffee shop. This sort of meeting was usually resigned for TV and movies.

“Mr. Winchester,” Castiel offered, pleased when it only took him the one try.

Dean smiled deeper.

“It’s Dean, Mr. Novak,” he replied in his pleasant voice, his white teeth flashing. “What are you doing?”

“Then its Castiel for you,” Castiel replied, turning the laptop screen slightly for him to see. “I am editing my lesson plans for this week,"

Dean stood to get a better view, hoping to help Castiel out if he needed it. But Castiel raised his hand up, stopping Dean.

“I would like to sit over there,” He explained after seeing Dean’s grin falter. “It’s my usual seat.”

Dean nodded, helping Castiel move his things to the seat opposite. Castiel carefully arranged his cup and plate to make room for his satchel and computer. Castiel tried not to encroach too much of Dean’s space, but his satchel had to stay on the table. He would not place his bag on the floor.

“I’ve not seen you here before,” Dean said, watching Castiel continue typing away at his laptop keyboard. The clacking didn’t deter him though, because every once in a while Castiel would look up at him with his dark blue eyes and a small smile on his face.

Castiel laughed. “I come here quite often, you however, I’ve not seen here before.” Castiel felt rather justified in saying so, because he visited this coffee shop once every three days.

Dean pouted, rolling his eyes at Castiel’s accusation. “Alright, you’ve caught me. I’m not sure what to say,”

Dean leaned forward a little, and although Castiel reflexively leaned back, he couldn’t help but notice how symmetrical Dean’s face was, how straight his nose was, how his eyes sparkled like stars.

Dean was very pretty.

“Well, I am editing my lesson plans,” Castiel offered as a conversation piece. He quickly erased the last line he had made and tried again. It didn’t seem perfect. His tea was safe to drink now, and he made sure not to leave any crumbs on his plate.

Dean sipped on his coffee, watching Castiel intently. He noticed Castiel staring and smile every once in a while. And noticed it was because he wasn’t leaving any residue on the lid.

Dean, Castiel noticed, was a really good conversationalist. He seemed to move from one topic to the next with ease, there were times where he’d pause in the middle of his conversation, or trail off. Castiel usually hated people who spoke like that.

But he didn’t find himself getting anxious, or dropping.

Wow…

Castiel was proud of himself for not stumbling over his words, not like he’d normally do in conversation. But he found Dean’s laugh contagious and the tiny wrinkles that appeared when he smiled were endearing rather than irritating.

He was beautiful.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Dean asked, gesturing to where Castiel had deleted the same sentence yet again, after having written the exact same thing five times.

It had been sixty five minutes, according to Castiel’s precision watch, and Castiel had taken to editing while talking to Dean, since he had finished his tea already. He hadn’t ever talked to anyone for this long before, not without getting distracted or going into a mini panic attack.

He felt a pang of disappointment, he had really liked talking to Dean, but now Dean would know all about his problems and leave.

“I…I just do.” Was all he could offer Dean. “It doesn’t feel right,”

“Obsessive compulsive disorder?” Dean asked, but it didn’t mean he knew what Castiel was going through. Not many people ever did, they never expected it when Castiel nodded, head bowed down in shame.

“Y-yeah, yeah. Yes.”

As if this wasn’t embarrassing enough. Now he had to stutter.

“Oh.”

Oh god. Now it was all over. Dean would leave. Castiel was too weird, too different. His stupid mental disorder…and that just made it all that worse.

He waited for Dean to make some sort of excuse, or worse, a joke, like most people did. He waited…and waited…and waited.

Had Dean left?

Looking up, he saw Dean still sitting there, leaning forward.

“What is it like?” He asked, the curiosity in his deep voice was so sincere, so innocent. It made Castiel suck in a breath.

Castiel let out a relieved laugh. Dean wasn’t leaving. “It really sucks,” he replied honestly “It’s a hassle getting out of bed, tying shoes…” He smiled a little. “I never quite outgrew Velcro,”

Dean grinned, nodding. “I can barely tie my shoes either, but I’m an idiot. I trip a lot,”

And just like that, all the anxiety Castiel felt creeping up on him had disappeared. He assured Dean that he found his clumsiness adorable and he felt a warmth pleasant feeling when Dean smiled.

It was breath taking.

They stayed for half an hour longer, talking about everything and anything. Castiel’s mental problem hadn’t come up again, and it wasn’t like it was being avoided. It was just something Dean seemed to not feel the need to talk about. He left soon later, carefully spelling out his phone number to Castiel because he wouldn’t accept the napkin he had written it on. Castiel typed it down instead, on a separate sticky app on his laptop.

The yellow sticky floating on his desktop didn’t bother Castiel, surprisingly.

He watched in fascination as Dean waved and called out a goodbye from the coffee shop doors, making Castiel blush a bright red and wave back just as enthusiastically.

He didn’t think he’d be able to speak after that!

It wasn’t until he had returned back home that he realised, he hadn’t dropped, he hadn’t had a panic attack, he hadn’t checked his satchels clasp at all.

He had also forgotten to wipe down the table before sitting with Dean, he had also forgotten to clean his hands with hand sanitizer before leaving. And while he was remembering all of this, he didn’t notice he had just stepped right on a crack, it didn’t even make him hesitate.

He had, however, pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his bag straight away, checked his clasp three times afterwards.

It hadn’t gone away, completely. But meeting Dean, spending time with him had made Castiel forget, if only for a little while. Even now, Castiel found his mind preoccupied with the way Dean tilted his head a little to one side when he laughed, how his forest green eyes twinkled, how his constellation like freckles glimmered in the afternoon light.

It was exhilarating.

Castiel carefully made his way to his door, locking and unlocking it fifteen times behind him, hoping he’d be able to pluck up the courage and call Dean.

He’d see Dean again.

The smile on his face didn’t waver the whole night.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday.

The holidays had finally started, and he’d have three weeks off. Usually Castiel would have today off too, he had planned to sleep in an extra hour and spend the rest of the day going through his lesson plans, do his weekly grocery shopping, make a nice dinner, along with a cake or a pie, whatever he felt like that day, and then spend the rest of the night watching his favourite programs on TV.

But this morning his AD had called. Sam had insisted Castiel come to the school to help him with a new student. Castiel had spent the better half of the morning speaking to a young, blonde woman who would be in his class starting that fall. The new students’ mother was there as well, and she had so many questions, it was almost impossible for Castiel to answer them all.

Thankfully Sam stepped in when he could, informing the student and her mother about the school, and the lesson planning.

It would have been a  _ very _ bad idea if Castiel accidentally dropped in front of them all.

Thankfully, it was over just as quickly as it had started, and Castiel found himself walking back home.

Damn the weather. It couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be warm and sunny or cold and raining. He had expected this from the rain in the early morning, but his umbrella chose that moment to break apart on him. He looked at the mangled material and metal with forlorn, wishing he had worn his hooded coat today.

He’d just have to grin and bear it.

Too bad his day had just gotten all that much worse when his car chose that moment to not start. He rolled his eyes and locked his car, jostling his things in his bag. He’d have to get services to pick up his car and take it to a garage.

Great, just what he needed.

The rain was falling harder now. He had given up on the news a long time ago and he didn’t rely on the weather application on his phone. It had been raining lightly that morning, his ankle was aching a lot less now he had the time to rest.

He didn’t expect to have to worry about the rain, since he drove his car. But now that his car was out of commission he grimaced at his soaked slacks, button up shirt and his flared trench coat.

He cursed at herself.  _ Of course _ his car chose today to stop today, of all days. Meaning he’d have to call the mechanic to fix it tomorrow. Of course he had left all of his work at his desk, meaning he’d have to rely on his drafted copies over the weekend.

His thick rimmed glasses were waterlogged, as were his clothes and his bag. His coat was wrapped tightly around his figure and the bottom half of his socks were wet and clung to his legs. He didn’t even dare think of his sprained ankle now.

The rain beat down in a light shower, mocking his lack of raining gear.

Ever since his drop yesterday, he hadn’t been feeling all that well, his head was aching and his body felt completely exhausted. He just wanted to get back home, drink some nice, hot tea and get some well needed rest. Tomorrow was the weekend, and he wanted nothing more than to spend the weekend in bed.

But, with his car out of commission, and his home too far away to take a taxi, he had to rely on taking the train. A train which had too many people crowding around him, unclean seats and that god awful smell of the underground. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

So, why was he walking down this long path and not in the warm comforts of a train?

He reached for his phone once again, the news flashing on a widget. ‘Trains delayed due to crash on tracks’.

Apparently, someone thought it would be clever to crash his car into a tree, that tree had fallen onto the main train tracks. The driver had survived, but all of the domestic lines had been closed.

Castiel roughly placed his phone back into his bag and let out a loud sigh.

The plan?

Get to the city’s main station – which was heated and had a chemist to buy medicine for his headache from – and pray that there was a train or bus service that would take his back home.

The problem to this plan? He had to walk down a long, empty path next to a dark river to get to the main city station.

He wiped at the stray rain drop that had dripped down his glasses and peered at the road he was walking on. The humidity in the air made everything around him misty, the small dirt path was eerily quiet, the sounds of the pitter patter of rain against the water was soothing to his ears but murder to his headache.

He let out a low moan as he peered at the dark looming river rippling at every rain drop. Long swooping willow trees draped over the water breaking the surface with their leafy branches.

It would have been such a beautiful sight if only he wasn’t feeling so ill.

If something happened to him here, no one would be the wiser.

Panic rising at that thought, his heated fever and quickening heartbeat made his eyes blurry. He kept on trudging through the path, the rain getting heavier and heavier until he could barely see ahead of him.

Oh god, if only he wasn’t feeling so awful…

No, he told herself. He could do this. The city centre wasn’t that far ahead, he could see the twinkling lights ahead and he knew he was that much closer to medicine that he needed. He’d take some money out of his account, pay for a train and make his way home where he could curl up with a nice cup of tea and a book and just sleep the illness away.

A few moments later, he found himself standing in front of the medicine aisle of the pharmacy. His head was aching now, his blurry eyes peered through his rain ridden glasses at the many names of the medicines in front of him, barely making anything out.

He picked one that was familiar to him and read the back.

“The drowsy kind, huh…” He murmured to herself. He could do with a bit of sleep, especially after today. Why not, he’d take the medicine, get home and then go straight to bed. With that in mind, he paid for the medicine and a bottle of water and quickly swallowed two pills.

Letting out another long sigh, he manoeuvred his way through the throng of shoppers and bee lined to the nearest ATM. He needed money for the train back home.

He hesitated before pulling out his wallet. He never had money to begin with, nothing that made him special any way. He had been in his overdraft ever since he had gotten his bank account all those years ago.

He was ordinary. And teaching could only get him so far. He was barely getting by as it was. But it was when he was down on his luck, having the worst day possible, fingers numb from the cold, feeling the fever creep up on him to the point of exhaustion, that he stood in front of the ATM, placed his card into the slot, punched in his pin number and gazed at the screen.  

He always sighed at the minus sign before him, he had never seen money in his bank and he wasn’t expecting anything different this time.

Why did he torture himself like this? Like he needed a reminder that he still needed to pay the rent to his small apartment, his fridge was completely bare and the only clothing he possessed was his favourite jeans and a few cheap t-shirts, and a suit that was too large on him.

So when he saw his bank account on that blisteringly cold day, he had expected nothing different than the usual minus sign next to a string of numbers that told him timelessly that he was, once again, over his overdraft. Mocking him and the fruitless hard work he went through day after day. The long unsociable hours that did nothing to his finances.

He let out a long sigh and stared at the numbers.

“In my account today, two hundred thousand dollars,” He paused and did a double take, wait, what? “T-two h-hundred thousand?”

Had the medicine muddled with his brain? Was he so exhausted that he was making up numbers? Had the drowsiness kicked in early and he was unconscious on the ground, dreaming this whole thing up?

Thinking it best to recheck, he took out his card and did it again. Still the numbers stayed the same. Two hundred thousand in his account.

What in the world? This was too amazing…this had to be a dream. He pinched his arm, feeling the pain he shook his head. Nope, not a dream.

There had to be some sort of mistake, and he wasn’t about to go to jail for stealing the banks money.

But…

No, Castiel. This is wrong. Did you really spend your entire life working your fingers until they were numb just to steal? There is no such thing as an easy way out. Stealing is wrong. And he was going to go to the bank and find out what was going on.

A few moments later, Castiel found himself sitting in front of a blonde woman in a dark blue suit, grimacing at how pretty she looked sitting behind the desk, her nails clacking against the computers keyboard. The flowery scent she wore was strong.

“There is no mistake, Mr. Novak,” The blonde woman said with a smile, her teeth shining brilliant white against her dark red painted lips. “The amount was transferred to your account earlier this morning,”

“By…who?”

The blonde woman smiled once again and typed against the computer. Castiel shuddered at the woman’s dark blue eyes. She was a stereotypical beauty, skinny, blonde with a pretty smile. The complete opposite to Castiel’s short, round, spectacled frame.

“By a Mr. D. Winchester,” She said, her voice reaching that sonorous sound that Castiel knew men would melt for.

That name was…very familiar. But for the life of him he couldn’t…oh god.

Mr. D. Winchester. No way, not possible. His AD’s last name was Winchester, and his AD’s brothers’ name was  _ Dean  _ Winchester

No. No, this is a mistake. He didn’t understand how, but this is definitely a mistake.

Dean Winchester had given him two hundred thousand pounds? He barely knew Castiel!

This was definitely a mistake. Dean must have accidentally put such a ridiculously large amount in his account. Somehow… There were so many people with this bank, account numbers could have been mixed around. Sort-codes…account numbers…account details. They could be accidental…right?

_ Be realistic Castiel! _

“Did Mr. Winchester leave a contact number?” Castiel asked, leaning in to take a quick peek at the monitor.

The woman nodded, typing a few more keys on the keyboard. A few moments later she wrote a number down on a piece of paper and handed it to Castiel.

Castiel thanked her and stood up to leave. He clutched the paper to his chest and pulled out his phone. Crap, it was dead. In his haste that morning, he had forgotten to charge his phone over his lunch break.

Did he even  _ have  _ lunch?

God, ever since he had met Dean Winchester, his life had been spiralling out of control!

Seeing a phone box not far from where he was standing, he rushed towards it, holding his bag over his head to keep him dry from the rain. He rushed in to the clammy phone box and shivered. Damn it, great time to feel anxious over a dirty, used, phone box. Sucking in a deep breath, he picked up the receiver, put a few coins in, and dialled the number the bank teller had given him.

A few rings later, he heard a man’s voice. “Winchester Psych, how can I help you?”

“My name is Castiel Novak…” Castiel paused, he hadn’t really though this through. How was he supposed to explain to this man that Dean Winchester had accidentally put such a large amount of money into his account?

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. “Mr. Novak, Mr. Winchester has been waiting for your call,”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “He…has?”

Of course he has! They obviously needed Castiel’s verification to get the money back out of his account. He wanted to slap his hand to his forehead at his lack of common sense.

He heard the man speak again. “I will have someone pick you up from your location and be brought here immediately.”

He was left with the dial tone. What in the? How would they know where to pick him up from? He hadn’t even told them where he was.

Only a few moments later he heard someone tapping on the glass of the phone box. Gasping, he turned around and saw a tall, and extremely pretty redheaded woman wave him out.

Castiel complied and placed the phone back onto the receiver, he stepped out of the phone box and into umbrella the other woman held above him.

“It’s all yours,” Castiel said with a smile, stepping to the side to let the woman in to the phone box.

The woman didn’t move, she held the umbrella over Castiel, getting soaked by the water. Castiel stepped closer to the woman, hoping she would cover herself up.

The red head woman just smiled. Two handsome, large men in black suits stood behind the brunette, black sunglasses hiding their eyes. They reminded Castiel of the Men in Black. The rain was falling harshly on them, but they didn’t seem to care.

“Castiel Novak?” she asked. Castiel nodded, albeit hesitantly. “My name is Charlie. Please, follow me.”

Oh…oh no. He had seen this sort of thing in movies and the crime shows he adored watching. This was the part where they’d take the victim somewhere to be killed.

Was this pretty woman part of some sort of gang?

The woman ushered Castiel to a black estate car standing idle on the rain soaked road.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Castiel said breathlessly, holding his arms up. “I didn’t touch the money! I promise! I don’t want to go to jail! Please!”

Charlie laughed, her laughter sounding like bells. “Mr. Novak, please get in the car,”


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later, Castiel found himself sitting on a comfy sofa in the middle of a psychiatrist office. Taking a quick glance around, he saw a neatly presented desk against the far wall, an unusual chaise lounge chair a few ways away from it, for patients. One entire wall was covered with tomes and books of all sizes, all placed in a beautiful arrangement. Castiel breathed in deeply, the scent of the perfectly aligned books made his all warm and fuzzy inside.

So…Dean Winchester has a form of OCD.

Dean sat on the chair opposite Castiel, his long legs crossed at his ankles, one hand on his chin, in that goddamned sexy as hell suit. At least his tie was straight now.

He really appealed to Castiel’s anxieties. Which was…strange. Castiel didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Mr. Winchester,” Castiel started, his fingers clenching on the hem of his shirt. “There must have been some mistake,”

“There is no mistake,” Dean replied, his smile was devastatingly bright. “That money is yours,”

“Why?” He was glad he was getting straight to the point. If there was one thing Castiel didn’t like, it was when people beat around the bush. Anxious at something new, he clenched his nails into his thigh. The pressure of his nails scraping his skin soothed him somewhat. “I haven’t done anything to deserve it. Please, take it back. I am not some charity case.”

Dean suddenly stood up, gracefully standing in front of Castiel. He sucked in an appreciative breath, Dean was…magnificent.

“I want to give you an opportunity then.” Dean said, walking over to the neatly set desk, reaching for one of the white sheets of paper. Rifling through the small pad, he let out a quaint ‘aha’ and held an A4 sized white envelope.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Castiel leaned forward. “What kind of opportunity?”

“You have the next three months free, summer holidays right?” He ran his fingers over the calendar sitting on his desk.  “And so do I. So I intend to help you in that time,”

“H-help me?”

Dean nodded, holding the envelope to Castiel. He took the paper gingerly and placed it on his lap. Oh…the envelope was pressed flat, there was no writing on it, and the flap was almost perfectly stuck on.

Why was he suddenly feeling so hot! It was an envelope for gods’ sake!

Castiel gazed up at him, seeing Dean’s consent, and peeled the envelope open. Pulling the small wad of paper, Castiel held it before him. The first page held the title and his and Dean’s name.

_ Negotiation of Consensual Submission and Ownership. _

Castiel sucked in a breath. “A contract?”

Dean gave Castiel another breath taking smile and settled back on his seat. He crossed his legs at their ankles again and gazed up at him with his candy green eyes.

Oh…damn him and those eyes.

“It goes without saying that  _ that _ is not legally binding,” Dean stated, he looked rather hesitant, and Castiel knew Dean was worried what _ he’d _ think. “Read through it tonight, see what you think. If you disagree, we will find another mode of therapy,”

Castiel nodded, placing the contract back into its envelope. He was eager to see what was in it, but he had said to read through it tonight. He placed it on his lap.

Wait…what? Castiel should just take it out of the envelope and read it in front of Dean. Who cares if he said ‘tonight’. Castiel ran his fingers over the flap.

Damn it… _ he _ cared. He didn’t know why but he didn’t want to go against Dean. He wanted to make this man, this  _ stranger _ happy.

Why?

“What do you want in return?”

“Help me at my home,” Dean said, his voice steady and low, a slight smile on his lips.

“A-at your h-home?” Castiel said quickly, wrinkling his nose at his stutter. “Like a maid?”

“No, not a maid, never,” Dean shook his head, holding his hands up. “When I’m not here, I work into the night. I need someone to…” He paused, hands mid ramble. “Take care of me, and in return, I help you with your psychosis,”

“I am not a psychopath, Mr. Winchester.” Castiel said through gritted teeth. “I will not be your guinea pig.”

“Dean, please.”

Castiel’s gaze narrowed. “The statement still stands,  _ Mr. Winchester. _ ”

Dean just smirked, his lips turning up in the corners, his forest green eyes crinkling cutely at the edges. Castiel’s heart stuttered. His hands were tense and trembling. His back was stiffening against the padded leather chair. What was Dean doing to him?

“I would like to trial this theory,” He stated, settling back on his chair. “Shall we begin?”

~~

A few hours later, Castiel found himself talking nonstop about his life story. How he had been brought up in a religious household. How his parents did not show him the importance of love, but that of duty, duty to himself and to his family. There were no hugs, no long drawn out bonding moments. Nothing. The first time he hugged someone was his brother Greyson, before he left for school. Greyson had accidentally hugged him for far too long. It had led into Castiel having his first major panic attack at the age of five. His teachers didn’t know what to do with him, as he’d react worse when they touched him, neither did the doctors.

He was too young to have a stereotypical trigger. And he was happy to touch dusty and dirty things, just to make them clean. So it wasn’t a phobia of germs.

They just didn’t understand the strain of his mental state.

However, extensive therapy led to many financial problems, and the look on his parents’ faces as Castiel tried and tried to overcome his phobias with their help just wasn’t helping him.

They were being the best they could be, but he could see the life falling from their eyes and the money draining from their accounts. He had stopped straight away, learning that if he wanted to get over this, he’d have to do it himself.

He didn’t want to see that expression on his parents faces again. So he worked, and worked and worked and worked. Making enough money to give back to his parents, to help them when they most needed it.

Finally, after twenty-seven years, his family were stable, well stable enough. But he still had his phobia, his problem.

His life was pretty much him in his home or him at work. He’d feel his drops suddenly, many stayed for hours, others went in minutes. It was difficult to understand which was which, but he got through it.

Sam Winchester had seen his dedication and offered him a job, offered a place in his team, even though Castiel had told him of his problem. Of his psychosis.

Sam’s only rule. Don’t drop in front of the students.

He agreed and found that when he focused on his students, focused on his school, his work, his drops were suddenly pushed to the back of his mind. He could deal with them.

But they were still there, ruining his life.

Castiel rushed out every sentence he spoke in a desperate hurry wanting to get it over with. Dean would see how much of a mess he was and move on.

Castiel didn’t want Dean to move on.

Dean was standing on the other side of the office, gazing out of the floor length window across the garden at a beautiful afternoon view of the city, but Castiel knew he was listening to his every word.

_Hi_ _m_ _! _

Castiel wasn’t anything special. He was a teacher with no more than a minute of experience in the world Dean Winchester inhabited. He ran his fingers through his hair, nervously.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around how this had happened. Dean had some sort of power over him. That was for sure. The very essence of him was a huge damper on Castiel’s neurosis. Dean made him calm just by being around.

Dean was his anchor.

And he told Castiel to trust him. To trust that everything he was doing to Castiel was  _ for _ Castiel. And Dean in turn would trust Castiel, trust him to stay, to speak, to listen and to understand.

Castiel saw that glint in his surreal green eyes, shining with mirth, with understanding. He nodded and the right places, a deep throaty chuckle escaping at the more humorous parts of Castiel’s life.

Soon, Castiel found the sun setting in the distance and his life story finishing. Dean nodded to him, having moved back to the sofa he occupied before, telling him that his time was up for tonight.

“Read the contract,” Dean said, clapping his hands together. “Come again tomorrow,”


	7. Chapter 7

It had happened so fast Castiel had trouble taking it all in. He kept wondering whether he’d misunderstood something, but every time he thought about it, it was hard to imagine what else Dean might have meant.

Dean Winchester had asked him to come again. Had he really been impressed by Castiel?

As apprehensive as Dean was, Castiel didn’t want to ignore an opportunity like this. Free therapy and all he had to do was help Dean at his home?

 _And_ he was getting paid for this? Two hundred thousand pounds to stay in Dean’s presence, to have Dean help him? To let Dean do what he thought was right for Castiel. To listen to that _voice_ all the time.

But, two hundred thousand pounds in his account or not, this man would just as easily take everything away. Castiel wasn’t going to risk diving into that money. Not after he’d piled it up in clean, tall, level piles.

“You’re getting flustered,” Dean paced his way behind Castiel and laid his hands on the desk by his arm. “If you need something, tell me.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Winchester.” Castiel repeated, willing his hands to stop shaking. It was hard to concentrate with Dean standing so close. The crisp sleeves of his shirt pressing against Castiel’s arm as he leaned in closer. Castiel felt trapped in his chair.

“Do you have a diagnosis for me, Mr. Winchester?” He blurted out, instantly regretting it.

Dean gave a long pause and Castiel felt Dean’s eyes on the back of his neck. “No, I do not, Castiel. I believe it is too early to honour the full extent of your psyche,”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Are you afraid I will do something drastic if you complain about being made to do something cumbersome?”

Castiel tried to swallow, clearing his throat and forcing himself to get a grip. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to help me. I’ve had many other professionals try and I’m still the same, I don’t know what you see in me.”

Castiel suddenly had an awful feeling he’d be spending his last afternoon in Dean’s home.

“What do you _think_ I saw in you?” Dean dropped his hand away from the edge of the desk and leaned down at Castiel. He couldn’t make up his mind which was worse, Dean’s arm gripped so close to his or Dean’s piercing green gaze.

Castiel felt his heart flutter and forced himself to meet Dean’s eyes, cool and clear beneath his handsomely spun hair.

“I don’t know—”

“ _Tell me._ ”

Castiel couldn’t. He didn’t know what Dean wanted out of him. He didn’t know what any of this bizarre experience meant or what kind of game Dean was playing. A sudden pang of frustration tightened in his throat.

“I think…” He sucked in a breath. “You do whatever you fancy. So you found a new project to entertain you,”

Castiel bit his lip, expecting Dean to yell at him. What he didn’t expect was the chuckle that came.

“I see,” Dean slid off the desk and patted Castiel’s shoulder, the touch of his fingers sending a shiver down Castiel’s back. “Let me escort you out,”

“But—”

“Let me escort you out.”

Castiel nodded. Dean motioned for the lifts at the lobby of the floor. They opened with a ding and Castiel stepped inside, sucking in a breath when Dean followed suit and stood right next to him.

Castiel felt his body jerk the instant they were locked inside the lifts. Dean’s addictive scent permeated Castiel’s head. Dean was so close to him now. So close Castiel could almost taste him. All night long he had been in Dean’s presence, sitting opposite him, watching him. Watching his beautiful candy green eyes dart over him, his tongue curl over his lips and wetting them. Making them shine. His fingers drumming over the edge of the desk and Castiel couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like for Dean to hold him against that body.

Oh, he wanted desperately to count all those adorable freckles across Dean’s nose. He could easily stare at this man forever.

His attraction to Dean stunned him. Castiel had never felt like this for anyone. He had always thought he was asexual. He was! He was never sexually aroused by others, or cared about other people in that way.

Maybe he was just Dean-sexual.

…his heart thudded at the thought of Dean and sex. _Fuck…_

Why did he have to feel this way now when he couldn’t stay and explore more of the man, more of this feeling? Did Dean even like him like that?

Probably not.

 _Definitely_ not.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he waited for the lifts to descend to the ground floor. He hesitated and looked up at Dean, and the searing heat in his captivating eyes.

He was so hot, so very sexy. And now he knew Castiel’s secrets, his life story.

Oh…

What did Dean want to do with him, all Castiel had done is sit on his extremely comfortable chair and talk about himself? Did Dean just like seeing how Castiel responded to his teasing? Did he want company? Sex?

Castiel shivered at that last thought as he remembered the tingles he’d felt at every brush of Dean’s fingers near his skin, the feeling of looking up at him as he stared down with those domineering eyes. Dean always looked at him so intently, admiring every part of him – had Dean been admiring? Or was that Castiel’s own wishful thinking?

Wishful thinking. Definitely.

Castiel shook his head at his thoughts and put it to the back of his mind. But the thought lingered, even after he had told himself he wasn’t going to continue their bizarre arrangement.

Yes. He would face Dean and tell him that he wasn’t going to see Dean, in or out of the school.

Sucking in a breath, he turned to the man.

His heart skipped. Dean looked so delicious in the artificial lights, and Castiel felt himself wanting to reach up, to touch him. Oh…

As if seeing his distress, his need, Dean drew up into Castiel’s personal space, forcing him back to the lift walls. Castiel felt electricity permeate from the spaces between their fingers, potent as it sizzled through his body. Castiel froze, expecting a panic attack, a drop, everything felt…

Oh…everything felt so very _good._

“Let’s begin your therapy,” Dean’s voice was low, grated as he whispered into Castiel’s ear.

What? Castiel wanted to ask him what he meant, but with his arm tucked beside him, enveloped around him, distracting him, Castiel found he didn’t care. Dean’s presence was delicious. He was too focused on all of his nerve endings sizzling in pleasure and anticipation.

Dean ran his fingers so close to Castiel’s tingling skin, over his cheek, down his neck and shoulders, down to his arm. It was like a trail of fire coasting over his skin. Electricity crackling between the space of his skin and Dean’s fingers. But Dean didn’t touch him.

Castiel wanted to groan in aggravation.

“Touch me,” He moaned.

_…what?_

Dean’s large hand coasted lightly around his waist, pressed feather light against his skin and Castiel let out a loud moan. Fireworks erupted behind his eyes at Dean’s one touch.

Dean held him close to the rigidness of his body, setting off a trembling heat that made Castiel arch into him.

He closed his eyes, head falling back, neck stretching for Dean. Submitting to him, trusting him completely.

Oh…he resisted the urge to groan. Yet, his mind ran through all of the romantic stories he had read as a child. Of their first kiss, showing love, bringing confidence, breakings spells. Of submitting to a man who wanted him and only him. Someone who would care for him, protect him. Hold their body against him and guard him.

What harm would a kiss – or two – do? And therein lay the danger. Would he be able to kiss Dean? Or worse, would he be able to stop at just one kiss?

The answer didn’t please him.

“I promised myself I would give you time, but,” he said as one of his fingers came up to trace Castiel’s full bottom lip, “I find myself unable to resist you.”

His feather-light touch set Castiel on fire. Hunger of the carnal kind raced through his body and imbued him with urgency.

_Please._

“Dean…” Castiel murmured as his hands reached up ever so slowly to Dean’s shoulder. He felt heat erupt under his fingers and he sought for more.

What was this? How was Dean doing this?

“Good boy,” Dean replied, settling himself firmly between Castiel’s legs and grinding himself against the man. Castiel gasped and arched beneath him, his nails digging into Dean’s skin.

Dean pressed his lips feather light to Castiel’s ears, his voice so low, so grated with passion as he said Castiel’s name. “Cas…”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to an empty lobby. Dean pulled away from Castiel and straightened out his clothing.

Seeing that Castiel was still in a trance, Dean ushered him to the entrance.

“I will see you tomorrow,” He said into Castiel’s ear, pushing him into an awaiting taxi cab. He told the driver where Castiel lived and waved goodbye to him. Leaving him to his thoughts.

What the hell was that?!


	8. Chapter 8

For the rest of the night, and the remainder of the following day, Castiel’s thoughts had been infused with that almost-kiss, if he could call it that.

He had spent the entirety of his night, tossing and turning, thinking of plausible ways on how Dean had made him lose his anxiety by just being there. How he had not fallen into a panic attack.

What had Dean done to him?

He had placed the contract on his dining room table, his mind still infused with what happened last night. He hadn’t read it yet. He was afraid of what he’d find in there.

Would this treatment really help him?

But he knew he had to, he was supposed to meet Dean at his home tonight. Dean had specifically asked him to read it.

The holidays were soon upon him, the weekend was ripe with relaxation, just three more days to gather himself, and then he’d have three whole months away from his job. Three whole months of torture by one Mr. Dean Winchester.

Who, by the way, was currently mowing his neighbours’ lawn.

How messed up was his life!?

Castiel had been attempting to enjoy his first day off in the surprisingly warm month of August. he had all kinds of plans for the day. Clean the house, grocery shopping, baking a nice cake...but it was approaching two o'clock and he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, sweating through a t-shirt and boxers, bopping to some god awful music on the radio as he waited for his cake to bake.

The kitchen window provided an excellent view of his neighbours’ front garden where the tall Adonis who had taken over his thoughts, was currently cutting the grass. Wow...

Dean Winchester.

It wasn’t enough that he had spent his entire night remembering how Dean’s body had felt against his, or how delicious the man’s scent was. That man was making Castiel feel very, very warm, and very, very hard. It didn't help that the afternoon was so hot that Dean’s t-shirt was soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin in the most delicious way.

Holy fuck! Castiel could stare at that man for hours. In fact, he had been. Well, ever since he started baking anyway, so that was a good hour or so. he was sitting on the kitchen counter, hands in the sink in order to lean forward and see more of Delicious Dean but still be able to hide if Dean glanced his way.

Who cared if Castiel saw him at work, or at his house, or his office?

Dean was standing in front of him, oblivious to Castiel watching him with rapt attention. There was no mask, no faking his way and being formal. Right here, right now, he was just Dean.

And Castiel desperately wanted to see more of him. More of his tall, hot body, his pale skin covered with sun kissed freckles, that perfectly firm looking ass and those muscular thighs hidden under his khaki shorts.

Oh god...he couldn’t think. he knew his cake would turn out bad. he had been keenly focused on the measurements, it was second nature to him. But…there was a mixture of salt, sugar…flour...something...oh my…he was wiping his forehead.

What Castiel wouldn't give to lick that sweat from his cheek, taste his hot skin...

_ What was he thinking about? _

He had previously thought to offer Dean a drink, be all nice and neighbourly. They knew each other, it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch. But he had witnessed one of his pretty blonde neighbours coming out of her house in the skimpiest summer dress ever invented. she had a thin waist and arms, small breasts, her long legs and dainty feet in high heels.

Fuck. He had gotten so many signals from Dean, so many that pointed to the man maybe,  _ maybe  _ being bisexual. But, now he wasn’t so sure.

What if Dean was straight as an arrow, and was only being polite to Castiel?

No,  _ no.  _ They had almost kissed, his fingers had been running all over Castiel, the man was interested. He just...wasn’t...doing anything about it,

The blonde had sauntered towards Dean with a confidence that Castiel was sorely lacking. Castiel had gripped onto the edge of the sink, eyes narrowed and letting out a loud sigh.

The gorgeous guy falls for the gorgeous girl...obviously.

He was still interested in watching them even though he knew it was now impossible for anything to happen. he could use this painful ache as writing fodder.

He was confused when Dean’s dark eyes darting to his house. Castiel ducked down so hard, his chin hit the counter and he saw stars. Idiot...

By the time his chin decided to stop pounding like a drum in ache, he peered carefully through the window again, just knowing the blonde would have said something to make him take a break and go into her house for a quickie.

Hell, if Castiel had the balls, and the beauty, he'd have done the same.

But the gorgeous blonde neighbour was nowhere to be seen, and Dean was at the porch where a cooler sat and pulled out a bottle of water.

He…didn’t go with the pretty blonde?

He probably has a girlfriend. That had to be it. Castiel hadn’t even asked if Dean was in a relationship. Well, there relationship didn’t warrant that question, did it?

Castiel sighed. Gorgeous and loyal.

He was interrupted by a small meowing coming from somewhere around the house. Castiel let out a sigh, he knew who that was. he hated that cat, that stupid black and white ball of puffy fluff and allergy inducing fur. His neighbour had been going on and on about how her precious cat loved to go onto rooftops and get stuck there.

No way was this cat going to take away Castiel's afternoon of watching the extremely gorgeous man mowing his neighbours’ lawn. he'd just find the little bugger, return it to its owner, do a thorough cleaning of his whole house and be on his merry way back to the kitchen counter watching,  _ not stalking  _ just watching, the Greek God work.

He made his way around the house, trying to find where that infernal mewing was coming from. Pushing the door wider in his bedroom he heard the mewing get a lot louder now.

Oh hell no, that cat was not going to leave fur all over his bedroom.

Fortunately the cat was outside, sitting in the middle of the gable above his window, Castiel could see the black tail swishing back and forth just outside the windows ledge.

Unfortunately, that meant Castiel was going to have to get that stupid cat.

What if he just...pushed it off? They had nine lives right.

No, Castiel. That is a bad thought.

Letting out another sigh, he didn't feel like getting dressed, but when he caught sight of his slightly round stomach that had plumped out quite a bit with all the teaching, eating and not working out, he thought it best to at least put on some jeans.

Nah. Who was going to know?

He slipped on some flip-flops and ventured out of his window.

~~

The sun was unforgiving as Dean pushed the lawn mower through the dense grass and tangled weeds. He had been suckered in by his mother to help her friend by mowing the lawn. It was a good way to earn some money while he was on his off season. He didn’t book any other patients over the summer other than Castiel Novak.

Unfortunately, Mrs Gilbert hadn't really been free until the hottest day in the whole year.

But at least it was completely different from sitting in his office and reading thesis’s and new articles. Well, there was AC in his office.

Dean blinked the sweat out of his eyes as he made his way down the final row and killed the engine before loading the thing back into the back garden.

Task complete. He grabbed the small cooler Mrs. Gilbert had left on the front porch and pulled out a cold bottle of water. He downed half of the bottle, unable to hold back a moan at the rush of cold liquid on his parched tongue and throat. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching him, he pulled his sweat soaked shirt off and emptied the rest of the bottle over his head, sighing in bliss as it cooled his heated skin.

A low moan had his eyes flinging open and darting up to the roof of the house next door to the one he had been mowing.

He looked up to see a pretty dark haired, alabaster skinned man sitting on the gable of the roof, mid reaching for a cat that was running away from him, hungrily watching Dean with those gorgeous Kansas sky blue eyes.

Was that…Castiel Novak?

Wow...that outfit he was wearing was something else. Seeing him straddled over the pitch of his roof, his thighs and legs in full view, his shirt rising up to show off that succulent stomach.

Holy fucking hell…

Dean flushed in embarrassment, and quickly turned to leave. He was about to hop into the drivers’ seat of his car when he heard the gasp. He looked back up to the gable to see Castiel slightly further from where he had been before, leaned forward and laying complete on the pitch of the gable.

“Are you okay?” Dean called out, hesitantly.

Castiel looked at him, dazed, and started to stand up. Dean watched in horror as he slipped again on a few loose shingles and began to topple over the side grabbing onto to a gutter at the last second. The gutter groaned under his weight as he held on for dear life.

Dean hurried over to stand under the dangling man. It was a two story house, so it would be about a six foot drop.

“Let go, I’ll catch you!” He yelled.

There was a moment of startled silence before Castiel answered. “No! I’ll crush you, get the ladder! It's on the other side of the house,”

Dean scoffed. “Please, I can bench press five times your weight. Besides you’ll fall before I get the ladder in place.”

Castiel groaned and looked down at Dean, weighing his options...shit, he didn’t have many options.

“You know I can see pretty much everything from down here,” Dean stated, smirking brightly.

Castiel turned a bright red and looked down. Dean wasn't looking anywhere under him, his gaze was fixed on Castiel’s eyes and had been since he had fallen. But the thought that he might take a peek made Castiel pressing his legs together, wanting desperately to hide away.

The one day he decided not to bother with proper clothing.

He grimaced, if Dean did look he'd see everything!

“Do you trust me?” Dean said.

“Jasmine is Arabian, I am American, and I am  _ not  _ a princess!” His voice was timid and his fear was palpable. Dean suddenly felt an intense desire to put him at ease. “And you are not my Aladdin.”

“I can show you the world, angel,” Dean chuckled, seeing Castiel turn a deeper shade of red. He knew they were in a dire situation, but he couldn’t help but tease his pretty little angel. “Come on Cas, I’ve saved you once, let me do it again?”

Castiel panted out a laugh. “Screw you, Winchester!”

“I’d rather screw you, babe!” Dean chuckled, shaking his head, seeing a flush of red rise through Castiel. “Look Cas, you're only going to be able to hold on for so long, the longer you do the more your arms are going to hurt,”

Castiel groaned, suddenly feeling the strain on his arms and hands. It was better when he was distracted by the tall, gorgeous Dean teasing him and calling him angel. Now everything just ached.

He tried to adjust his grip. “You don’t understand, I’m much heavier than I look,. I’ll hurt you,”

Dean sighed, and looked down to the ground trying to figure out what he should say. He remembered the hungry look Castiel had given him in the lifts yesterday, and got an idea.

He cleared his throat and deepened his voice just enough so only Castiel could hear him. “Baby, I could lift that gorgeous body of yours, pin you to the wall and fuck you for hours without getting hurt, now let go!”

Castiel let out a squeak and let go, falling easily into Dean’s waiting arms. Dean didn't even make a sound at the impact, just clutched Castiel close to his chest. Castiel’s eyes were clenched shut, it was a good minute before he slowly opened them.

“Pink?”

Castiel's dark eyes widened, he looked down to see his shirt had ridden up to his lap, showing his pastel pink boxer briefs. He forced down the hem of his shirt, pushed out of Dean's grasp and tumbled onto...wait, his sofa? When had they gotten inside his house?

Dean found himself once again caught by the hungry dark gaze, but this time instead of blushing and trying to look away he returned the look with one of his own.

Hey what was a guy to do when he saw a pretty guy lying on a comfy looking sofa in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. Oh god, his skin was slightly damp from the humid air,  and his gorgeous legs were parted just right. It’d be so easy for Dean to just lean down and grind into him. The bottom of his shirt had once again raised up to his lap and showing off more than just creamy thighs. Castiel’s skin looked so delicious wrapped up in pink.

Castiel blinked, a blush rising on his cheeks at the way Dean was looking at him. His gorgeous, naked torso was damp with sweat, something Castiel usually backed away from, but right now, he wanted to reach up and lick Dean’s skin, to see if it tasted as salty as he imagined. He wanted to run his fingers over Dean’s heated skin, to feel those rock solid abs under his fingers.

He was an aphenphosmphobic. He should  _ not  _ be thinking things like this. The very idea of touch repulsed him, but with Dean, so close and so  _ very  _ naked. All Castiel wanted to do was touch, to taste, to peel off the rest of his clothing and just grind together until they were satisfied.

“My hero,” he whispered, and Dean impulsively leaned forward. Castiel closed his eyes, expecting a kiss. It was one of those beautiful, perfect moments, moments that only came a few times. He was ready, he wanted desperately to feel Dean’s lips on his skin, on his lips, everywhere.

But they were interrupted by the shrill sound of Mrs. Gilbert, the owner of the villainous cat that had started this whole mess walked into the living room without invitation.

“Castiel dear, I saw everything!” she said with a harsh cry. “Are you alright?”

“We’re not done, Dean,” Castiel murmured, his breath catching. he pushed Dean off him and turned to the woman inviting herself through Castiel's broken front doorway.

Crap! Had Dean broken his door down?

“Saving your cat almost cost me my life, Mrs. Gilbert!”

“Oh, now Castiel.” Mrs Gilbert sauntered into the house, settling herself on Castiel’s couch. The smell of vanilla and patchouli permeated around her. Castiel sucked in a breath, if there was one scent he hated, it was vanilla. It made him feel sick. And this old woman was making his entire house smell of it.

Castiel suddenly had the urge to clean, he needed to scrub the sofa, clean the pillows and aerate the room for a start. Mrs. Gilbert needed to go, now.

Dean stood in front of the two, holding his arm out before Mrs. Gilbert. “We need you to leave, Mrs. Gilbert. Mr. Novak and I have a few things we need to discuss,”

Mrs. Gilbert looked flabbergasted, but Dean stood solidly. He politely motioned to the woman. Mrs. Gilbert scoffed and stood up, leaving out of the doorway.

Dean pressed the door closed, seeing it had come off its hinges slight, but it was still able to close properly. He’d have to fix that as soon as possible. Turning, he noticed the envelope sitting on the table, untouched.

“You disobeyed an order, Castiel.” His voice was like steel, and Castiel found himself sitting straighter on the sofa, pliant to Dean’s whim. “I specifically told you to read the contract last night, you have not?”

Castiel’s gaze darted to the large, white envelope sitting innocently on the dining table and he winced. Dean had told him—  _ wait!  _ Why was he feeling so guilty that he hadn’t followed Dean’s orders?

“I was afraid,” Castiel admitted, sighing out loud. “What if I don’t like what’s inside?”

“What if you do?” Dean took the envelope from the table and sauntered over to the smaller man, his candy green gaze on Castiel. He handed the teacher the contract. “Read through it, and come to my home at our allotted time,”

Dean smirked when Castiel immediately took the contract from his grasp. Dean reached for his t-shirt dangling from his back pocket and put it on. He gave Castiel a finalised nod and made his way to the door.

He really should get that fixed for Castiel.

“T-thanks!” Castiel yelled, watching him leave. “F-for saving me again,”

“Anytime, angel.”


	9. Chapter 9

That night, Castiel found himself walking back up the path to Dean’s house again after class. Dean hadn’t been watching him today, so Castiel didn’t know what to expect.

His mind was infused with what he had read on the contract, sure he had just skimmed over it, barely read it because he was so red in the face. But he had done a quick online search and his body shuddered at what  _ could  _ have been on this contract.

Dean was pretty tame. Or was this just the beginning?

_ Transfer of power between caring, consenting partners. _

Castiel gripped the envelope in his fingers, he had had to fill out a  _ rather personal  _ questionnaire for Dean. It wasn’t as bad as he had expected, there were the normal questions, such as allergies, fears, what he did and didn’t like. None of that was sexualised.

But then, when Castiel had turned the page and his face flamed up even more; safe words, what to call Dean when they were in scene, what  _ Castiel  _ wanted to be called during a scene, if Castiel liked bruises and pain.

He had to think about the last one, he...having Dean’s marks on him was...thrilling. As thrilling as the thought on how those marks would appear on him.

Oh god.

It continued, at least three pages full of different kinks, and Castiel had to state whether he would like to try or if it was a complete no.

Dean just  _ had  _ this in his office at all times? Did he do this often? Or had he planned this for Castiel only?

He didn’t really want to think about Dean and  _ other people.  _ Especially when he read that Dean was willing for  _ aftercare.  _ With Castiel’s aphen, he wasn’t sure if ‘cuddling’ would be a possibility. But, he had to reprimand himself, every time Dean touched him, Castiel didn’t drop.

And cuddling sounded  _ really  _ nice.

Castiel knocked on Dean’s door, the envelope crinkling in his grasp as he waited, impatiently, for the door to open. His thought’s didn’t help him at all, they were ricocheting back and forth. Dean and him, in a  _ sexual  _ relationship.

He didn’t think it was possible.

“Castiel,” Dean smiled at him, ushering him into the house.

Castiel stepped into the study, her shoes knocking against the polished floors. He had to stop being so nervous.

“Mr. Winchester.” He tried to return the smile, but his stomach was in knots.

Why was he here? What was the point in all of this? What did he think was going to happen?

Dean drew back the chair for him, and Castiel sat down without a word. Dean had made sure that everything was clean and straightened, just what Castiel’s OCD desired.

He watched, focused, as Dean moved languidly to the pitcher tea kettle, waiting for it to boil. With his back turned, Castiel got a good look at him. He was wearing jeans and a button up shirt today, it was refreshing from the last time Castiel had seen him in that awfully sexy suit. Good god, he looked like he had been poured into those jeans.

The soft sounds of water bubbling in the metal kettle bought Castiel out of his revere. Dean’s fingers moved quickly, with precision as he made Castiel tea, asking him how much sugar and milk he wanted. He murmured his answers, his gaze not lifting from those fingers.

What would they feel like on him?

God, what was going on? Castiel hated touch, it made him shiver, made him repulsed, made him want to scrub, scrub, scrub at his skin until the awful tingles went away.

But when he thought of Dean touching him…

Dean-sexual. That’s what he was.

Dean handed him the cup of steaming tea, Castiel took a tentative sip, knowing the way he liked his tea. He was ready to try and bite his tongue against the onslaught of criticism that would most definitely spew from his mouth. Tea was an art form, it was supposed to be made a certain way. He hated that he was like this, but he wouldn’t be happy until—

Wow...it was perfect.

_ How? _

“You have the contract?” Dean asked, noticing the envelope in Castiel’s hands.

Castiel sucked in a deep breath and nodded, holding the envelope out to the man. Dean took it and sat down opposite him. Taking the paperwork out, he settled it on his lap and started reading it.

The silence was palpable, and Castiel found himself gripping his teacup tight in his fingers, praying Dean said something. But the man wasn’t even reacting to anything Castiel had written.

Oh god, what if he didn’t like it? What if he thought Castiel was weird? What if--?

Dean finished reading and placed the paperwork back into the envelope, he stood up suddenly, placing the envelope carefully in his bag and latching the bag closed.

Castiel hoped his contract would be safe. He found it surprisingly easy to trust Dean, trust that he would do the right thing. And now he knew exactly what Castiel liked.

It would be easier now, right?

Castiel could feel his heart thumping in his chest, watching as Dean lifted his fingers to the keys of his laptop and began typing.

“I thought…we’d try something…a little different today,” He spoke slowly, pausing as he typed. “Just…give me a moment,”

Castiel didn’t like the pauses. He caught his eyes wandering to the room, flitting up to look at him every few seconds, praying Dean’s back was turned and flushing with discomfort when he saw Dean wasn’t.

“You seem fine with my touch,” Dean was still pausing as he spoke. “So let’s work on that for today. See your limits.”

The pauses gave Castiel time to think, to wonder at what Dean wanted with him all over again, and as the minutes crawled by the anticipation built to breaking point. He sucked in a breath and busied his mind by looking at the interior. All around the walls were a collection of artistic props and ornaments, and during one particular pause his gaze stopped in front of a riding crop dangling from a peg.

Had that always been there?

Castiel heard Dean stand up, still as graceful as ever. Noticing his gaze falter, Dean paused in front of the riding crop. He drew his fingers up and down the stem of it agonisingly slowly, before lifting it down and giving the crop an experimental swish through the air.

He didn’t look at Castiel once during the whole motion.

“Do…do you enjoy riding, Mr. Winchester?” Castiel asked tentatively.

“No, Cas. But, I do like the feel of leather,” He resumed his pacing, tapping the crop firmly against the palm of one hand. “Do you?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Winchester.” Castiel added quickly, and lowered his eyes, taking another sip of his tea. Dean kept the crop in his hands, wandering around the room tapping it in his palm.

_ Tap-tap. Tap-tap  _ . Sometimes it was right behind Castiel. The small leather thong at the end of the stick eliciting that agonising sound over and over again.  _ Tap-tap. Tap-tap.  _ It wasn’t long before his thoughts ran away with his and his fingers slipped. The cup fell to the ground, tea spilling on the clean wooden floors. Castiel cursed quietly, reaching down to try and clean it up the best he could.

The tapping stopped.

“Cas, I didn’t pay you to keep making a mess,”

“What  _ did  _ you pay me for?” He replied hotly, then froze as he felt the tip of the riding crop pressing against his bare arm.

“I paid you to come to my home and do as I say, and you agreed,” The leather thong traced its way painfully slowly up Castiel’s arm, tickling every millimetre of skin with the rough edge of the loop. “And just so you know, I intend for you to stay the night. If that’s a problem, you can leave now.”

Was this what Dean meant by using a new theory.

Castiel suddenly stood up, wanting to leave. He should have. But the ‘what if’ was still reeling in his head. What if Dean could fix him? What did Dean want with him? What did Castiel dare to think was Dean’s real desire?

When he didn’t move Dean continued stroking the crop deliberately up his arm, over the shoulder until it finally reached his neck, along the side of his jaw to rest beneath his chin.

Castiel let the gentle pressure of it lift his head up until he was looking at Dean.

“You’re going to stay,” His tone silenced any argument. The fact that  Castiel had stayed after having been given the chance to leave was answer enough for him.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester.” He said softly, his voice almost a whimper. Oh god, what was he doing?

Dean Winchester was three years older than him, but being here in his office,  Castiel suddenly felt like a helpless little boy compared to him.

He was…surprisingly okay with that.

“Safeword,” Dean asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows.  _ What? _

“If you want to stop, tell me your safeword,” Dean explained. “You say your safeword and we will stop. No matter what.”

Castiel felt himself relax, all of that tension building inside of him, all of that fear. It dissipated. Dean was still giving him an out, even though he had showed that he wasn’t going anywhere.

But, what safeword could he use? What word would work? Then it hit him, Dean called him angel, his students called him angel, there was only one word. “Halo.”

“Good.” Dean said, his gaze returning stoic again.

Something about Dean drew him in like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was the power that attracted him, or Dean’s gorgeous looks, or the way he spoke to him.

Whatever it was, it kept Castiel there. His throat quivered as Dean tapped the underside of his chin with the crop.

Dean’s gaze was dark, pleading, like it had been at school.

“For this to work, I need complete obedience from you,” he paused, sucking in a breath and returning back to the stoic man Castiel knew him as when they were in his office. “You have read the contract, and you are here. So you agree. You will do whatever I tell you to, and you won’t answer back.”

“Yes sir,” Castiel’s thoughts returned to the night reading through that explicitly intricate contract, and found little to no fault in it. Why shouldn’t he try it out? Nothing else had worked so far.

He had agreed, Dean knew what he wanted.

But this wasn’t a game.  Castiel wasn’t a game to him. Dean was helping him. Helping him overcoming his fears and by god was it working.

“Dean.” He said firmly. “You will call me by my name,”

“Yes Dean.” Why did  Castiel feel so compelled to submit to him? Why did it feel so easy, so good?

The butterflies of excitement in his stomach frightened him, and the tingle that extended deeper into his belly was even worse.  Castiel hadn’t felt this anxious in a long while, no, this wasn’t anxiety. He wasn’t going into a drop. He was so far away from a panic attack.

This was…amazing.

“Tell me, Cas, how much do you like to take control?”

“I…I…” His throat was so tight he could barely speak.

“Were you always the first to put your hand up in class? Did you always volunteer to give the first presentation in college? You obviously enjoy telling others what to do,”

“I’m a teacher.”  Castiel forced himself to say. “If nobody else takes charge—”

Dean nodded slowly. “Confident, but a natural submissive,”

“I suppose so, Dean. But I can take charge if I need to—” A sudden gasp cut him off as Dean swatted the tip of the crop against his cheek, his skin glowing from the painful sting.

“That wasn’t a question, Castiel. When I want you to speak I’ll make it very clear. Otherwise the only words I want to hear from you are  _ Yes Dean  _ .”

“Yes Dean,”

“Good. Stand up.” He kept the riding crop under  Castiel’s chin, guiding him up until he was wobbling on his toes, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. Dean paced around him, the slow, deliberate knock of his shoes against the floorboards punctuated the silence.

The sun was going down outside and  Castiel was here alone with him. Every bit of attention was focused on the delicate leather thong tracing his skin, brushing down the back of his neck and teasing the collar of his shirt, across from one shoulder to the other before moving down the inside of his arm. When the tickle reached his wrist,  Castiel couldn’t help but flinch away. Another sharp swat at the back of his hand was his reward.  Castiel squeaked in shock, willing himself to hold still again as Dean teased him.

“You’re going to have to learn to control yourself better than that, Cas. Otherwise I’ll have to give you much more than a little swat,”

Castiel caught his eye, and for a moment there was a glint of something passionate in his steely expression. Had it been excitement? Lust? Longing? Or was  Castiel just projecting his own emotions on to this handsome, powerful man again?

Castiel couldn’t believe the situation he had gotten himself into. How much of this was he going to put up with before he got a grip on himself and went back to being the neurotic Castiel everyone knew and expected again?

He wasn’t the sort of man to be enamoured with money and fame, even for someone like Dean Winchester. But was that Castiel someone he wanted to listen to right now?

The touch of the crop sent sparks of excitement crackling across every inch of skin it touched, and the thought of Dean’s hands stroking him like that, those same hands he’d rested on  Castiel’s shoulder before…

“Walk to the lounge with me,” Dean said.

“Yes, Dean,”  Castiel obeyed, the crop pressing between his shoulders as Dean guided him through the door. He felt helpless, the urge to disobey growing smaller and smaller by the second. The words ‘  _ Yes Dean’  _ sounded so appealing now, along with the idea of giving up control acquiescing to anything Dean demanded of him.

Castiel could feel his cock twitch, surprising him, he knew he was asexual, sure he had felt sexual desire before, but it was never to the point where he wanted act on it. But right now, he wanted nothing more than to have Dean’s hands all over him. Wanted them to be together in more ways than one. His cock hardened intensely now, and he struggled to find his footing as Dean walked him down the hallway into the lounge.

Dean-sexual indeed.

“Turn to the right,” Dean said as they entered. “Walk to the window,” The crop pressed hard against his back. Through the large window Castiel could see one of the apartment complex’s security guards sitting in his booth next to the front gates. He felt like she was on display.

Dean was giving him another out, another chance to feel safe. The guard knew he was here, the people in the lobby knew he was here. If anything happened that he didn’t like, Castiel had witnesses.

Dean would sacrifice his job to make sure Castiel overcame his fears and trauma? A warmth welled up inside Castiel at that thought.

What did he do to deserve this man?

“Be polite, Castiel. Smile and wave.”

Castiel had only ever greeted the guard with a professional smile. Never flirty or familiar with him. Swallowing hard, he wiggled his trembling fingers to catch the man’s eyes, forcing him mouth into a smile as the guard looked over. The look of surprise on his face tied Castiel’s stomach in knots all over again, and he stayed frozen in apprehension until he offered a polite nod and turned back to his reading.

Had the guard seen the riding crop? Did he know what Dean was doing?

“Good boy,” Dean pressed a hand to Castiel’s hip and Castiel shuddered, praying it would slip down further to the desperate spot between his legs. “Now walk upstairs with me,”

This was it. Dean was going to take  Castiel up to his bedroom and do whatever he wanted with him. And Castiel was going to let him. He couldn’t believe how ready he was for Dean.

Even if tonight was a moment of madness, he wanted it. Wanted to see what was in store, to see how far Dean would go. To see if this would really help him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hitting the BDSM in this chapter.  
> Remember, everything is safe, sane and consensual.

Dean walked Castiel ahead of him up the stairs, all the way to the top floor where he halted Castiel with the shaft of the riding crop pressed against his throat. He leaned in closer behind Castiel, inhaling his scent and stroking back a lock of his dark hair from his forehead.

Castiel was gone.

There was nothing he could deny Dean in that moment. Every second that passed was making the heat inside him harder to bear.

Twisting to face him, Castiel ran his hands across Dean’s chest, breathing heavily as he looked into Dean’s eyes and whispered. “Is this part of the therapy?”

Dean cupped his hand against Castiel’s cheek, sliding his fingers through Castiel’s hair and tilting his head back. Castiel closed his eyes in ecstasy, waiting for the kiss.

“I’m touching you and you’re not dropping.” His voice was like silk. “I think this experiment is working, shall we continue?”

Castiel whined. “Yes.”

He yelped in surprise as the crop smacked against the back of his thigh, leaving a stinging mark on his thigh

“You aren’t following my rules,”

“Sorry, Mr. Winches—” He squeaked as Dean spanked him again. “No Dean! I can follow the rules, I promise.”

“I think you’re only sorry you got caught,” A hint of something wicked touched Dean’s expression. “If I set more rules, are you going to break them the second my back is turned?”

“No Dean,” Castiel gasped, trembling in Dean’s grip as Dean slid his hand from Castiel’s neck down to his waist, hitching down the back of his jeans with a sudden tug, leaving his rear completely exposed.

“No you won’t, because I am going to teach you not to break the rules again.” His voice was rough and low, like gravel over asphalt. Castiel shivered. “Get on all fours, Cas.”

Castiel stepped back and he obeyed, feeling helplessly vulnerable as he knelt onto the thick carpet, his thighs and ass exposed without the protection of his jeans to cover them. He felt the thong of the crop running up the side of his leg, so excruciatingly slow that he had to bite his lip to hold back a moan. There was no way Dean hadn’t noticed how uncontrollably he was shaking, but Dean kept on tormenting him.

He had a safe word, but he did  _ not  _ want to use it, not now. Not...  _ ever. _

The crop ran up one thigh then down the other, creating a moment of blissful agony in between as it brushed against the fabric of his underwear. Castiel almost cried again as the leather pressed against his hardened cock, but he kept quiet just as he had been ordered to. It was all too much to cope with. He didn’t even know how he had gotten to this point or what he was doing any more.

But there was no panic attack, no drop. Just want…

Castiel wanted Dean. Wanted Dean to satisfy the need inside him that was strained to near breaking point. The need that had been starved.

The crop cracked down sharply across his ass and Castiel squealed, it wasn’t hard, not at all, barely a tap, but it stung, reminding Castiel who was in charge right now. The sting fading into a hot glow as he squirmed on the carpet. Dean hit him again, slightly harder, and a third time, burning pain adding its fire to the desperate heat between his legs.

“This is your punishment, Cas.” Castiel  noticed Dean was breathing heavily.

He wailed as another blow bruised his ass, still it wasn’t as hard as Castiel knew Dean could do. He was deliberately being soft and gentle, yet dominating and demanding. Every time Dean spanked him, a little shock of pleasure pinched at his stomach, his body responding instinctively to the punishment and craving more of it.

What was wrong with him, letting Dean humiliate him like this? He had never imagined subjecting himself to anything like this, yet Dean was making him enjoy it.

All of his teasing games, all of his insistent commands; they all led Castiel to this moment, letting Dean spank him as he bent over in the hallway on all fours.

He didn’t feel the drop, the need to clean his hands as they were pressed to the ground, the need to scrub and vacuum the carpet of Dean’s house.

No. His mind was blank. He was enjoying letting Dean do this to him, letting Dean tell him what to do, letting Dean own him. Castiel was getting off on it.

Dean whipped his reddened cheeks again and again, every crack of the crop snapping through the silence like a bullet. Castiel knelt there and took it, biting his lip hard to hold back the whimpers of pleasure and pain as the agonising experience drew on.

When Dean finally stopped, Castiel’s ass was burning and he could feel the wetness of his arousal running from the head of his cock down the side of both thighs.

“Look at you, Cas.” Dean said, running the leather thong over the lattice of marks across Castiel’s ass and thighs. “Do you enjoy breaking my rules?”

He ran the crop up Castiel’s thigh, catching a glistening droplet of moisture and rubbed it against his quivering, hardened cock. Castiel grit his teeth, groaning and willing Dean to press harder.

He ground his cock back against the shaft of the crop, rubbing it against his length and coating the leather with his precum.

“ _ Bad boy,  _ ” Oh god, his voice! Dean yanked Castiel back to his feet and pushed him against the wall. “Is this what you enjoy? Disobeying, being punished? Do you want me to whip you more? Is that it?”

Castiel let out a breath. “Yes Dean,”

Dean sucked in a breath and grabbed Castiel’s hand, thrusting it down the front of his slick underwear. “Touch yourself, make yourself come.”

“D-Dean.”

Dean’s face was so close to his, hot breath panting against his cheek as Dean trapped him with his piercing gaze. Castiel couldn’t tear his eyes away from him, his fingers sliding down the front of his underwear alongside Dean’s, rubbing over the head of his cock and gripping the sweltering length.

“D-Dean,” Castiel repeated breathlessly, desperate to come. Dean’s hand tightened into a circle, forcing Castiel to push his cock in and out of his grip. Castiel’s own hand was trapped alongside his, and his thumb brushed against the slit, threatened to send Castiel over the edge of any moment.

Dean pressed the shaft of the riding crop to his lips. Castiel opened his mouth obediently to hold it between his teeth. With his free hand Dean held Castiel’s shoulder back against the wall, pinning him in place an iron grip as his fingers pumped up and down his length.

Castiel whimpered quietly in the darkness, his eyelids fluttering as he let Dean dominate him. The pleasure wasn’t just in how Dean touched him, or how gorgeous he looked, or the warmth and scent of his body up close; it came from the feeling of submitting to him completely. It was the feelings of having Dean do these things to him, to own him, take care of him.

Castiel squeaked as Dean tightened is fingers around his, forcing their entwined digits deeper to tighten around his cock as he bucked up hard. He was on the brink, trembling and squeezing so tight he couldn’t bear it.

“You’re right on the edge, aren’t you?” Dean whispered. Castiel nodded frantically. “Good, now  _ come _ , Cas.”

He obeyed. The second Dean said  _ come  _ , Castiel was clutching at his shirt, his eyes rolling as his legs gave out and only Dean's firm grip held him up against the wall. The riding crop fell from his mouth as he shrieked in ecstasy, climaxing so intensely that his mind went blank and all he could focus on was the pleasure flaring up between his legs, the friction of Dean's fingers rubbing his cock, the scent of his cologne…

By the time he was done, he realised he was kneeling on the floor, his jeans tangled around his knees and his underwear was drenched.

Dean was at his side in an instant.

“Good boy, you were so beautiful Cas.” His voice was soft, and warm. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and helped raise the man to his feet. Castiel braced himself against Dean on unsteady feet. He winced when he felt Dean pull his jeans back up. His ass stung uncomfortably as Dean tugged the band up over the welts left by the crop.

He wanted to say something, wanted to talk about what had just happened between them, but when he caught Dean’s gaze, he saw desire and worry. Dean wanted this as well. He wanted to own Castiel, to make him better. To cure him.

To love him.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to admit it, but part of him was ravenous for the submission Dean made him feel. His mind was screaming at him to go back to that feeling, of being owned, of being cared for, of being loved.

It frightened him. “You…”

“I’m so sorry,” Dean interrupted him, taking hold of his arms and leading him to the large bedroom. Castiel barely had a chance to look around before Dean placed him carefully on the bed and wrapped a blanket around his body. Castiel buried himself deeper into the blanket, deliriously happy at the warmth and scent of Dean. Everything around him screamed  _ want, care, love, Dean… _

Castiel smiled at Dean's frantic musings as he reached for a glass of water sitting on his side table and handed it to Castiel. He graciously took a sip, letting the water cool him.

“I thought—I won’t ever do it again, let me take you home and—”

Castiel grasped at his hand and tugged him down. “More…”

Dean stopped his rant. “What?”

“I…” Castiel sucked in a brave breath. It was against everything he had been brought up to believe, to be independent, to be his own man. But being in Dean's care, being told what to do, giving Dean his body, mind and heart and knowing he would care for him. It was now or never to get what he really wanted.

Castiel trusted him.

“I liked it.” He said quietly, twisting his fingers nervously in his lap. “I forgot everything when you told me what to do. I want to be yours,”

Dean let out a long breath. “Alright, but we need to talk about this, properly.”

“Yes Dean,” He noticed Dean's shiver and smiled. At least it wasn’t just him who was feeling like this.


	11. Chapter 11

The sunlight glimmered against the opened window, letting in beautiful bright air into the decorated bedroom where two sleeping figures lay.

Sam Winchester, lay asleep on the large bed, his dark hair ruffled in sleep, his arm laid around a smaller man, tucked tightly into his arms.

The sound of a telephone ringing screeched against the blissful morning silence. Sam groaned quietly, swatting his arm against the table where the phone lay, hoping it would silence the incessant ringing. The phone beeped once as it went to the answering machine.

Castiel’s cheery voice echoed through the room.

“Good morning, Sam, Sorry for calling so early,” His voice was cheerful, happy, and that made Sam happy to know his friend was finally coming out of his shell. Maybe listening to Gabriel and pairing him up with Dean was a good idea. “You had asked me to wake you up this morning for your wedding rehearsal,”

“That man wakes up too early on a Saturday,” The smaller blonde mumbled, his voice laced with disturbed sleep. He snuggled into Sam, smiling when Sam’s arms tightened around his waist.

“You and your fiance have a lot to do today,” Castiel continued. “Your wedding planner is to arrive at ten, and your dance lessons are at one. Please be ready,”

Sam heard the phone click off and peered up at the clock blaring the time. It was six in the morning. He didn’t ever want to say anything bad about Castiel. Without that man, Sam didn’t think he’d ever get this far in his career. Castiel was more than just his employee, Cas was his friend. He was the one who had introduced Gabriel to Sam. Sam would forever be grateful to that man, anything Cas wanted, Sam would try his hardest to do.

And he saw Castiel’s need for help with his problems, and just knew his big brother Dean would be able to help.

But it was six in the morning. And right now, in bed with his gorgeous fiance Gabriel, wishing they could just go back to sleep and enjoy their first day off together.

Sam was rueing the man.

The blonde man in his arms groaned angrily, having lifted his head also to see the digital clock next to the phone. He leaned back down and buried himself into Sam, trying to get back to sleep, but knowing it wasn’t going to be possible now.

“Gabe,” Sam breathed out, still half asleep himself. “We’ve got the tour of the venue today,”

Gabriel moaned. “It’s at nine, we’ve got at _least_ two more hours of sleep in us,”

Sam had to agree with the man, Gabriel was technically right. They did have at least two hours until they had to really get up. Lulling himself back into a blissful sleep with Gabriel, his phone chose to ring again.

It quickly went to voicemail, and Castiel’s voice chirped again. “My apologies for calling once again, Sam. But you have a tux fitting today at five pm, as you requested, I will accompany you as you stated your best man would be busy. I assume you mean Dean Winchester, And I can assure you, he is not.”

Gabriel mumbled low in Sam’s hair; “I love my best friend, but I seriously want to kill him right now,”

“If you do, this wedding might not be running so smoothly,” Sam replied, shaking his head tossing the covers from his tall body and made his way to the door. “I’d rather not go to jail for killing my best friend.”

Gabriel sighed, grudgingly pulling the duvet from his lean body. He had been on call at the surgery yesterday afternoon, he had returned home to his gorgeous fiance. But, today was his day off, and he had wanted to spend the morning with his husband-to-be.

Instead ‘the boss’ had them wake up early.

Gabriel gazed at his soon-to-be-husband lovingly. “I’ll kill him for you,”

~~

_10am._

Sam and his fiance, Gabriel should be meeting their wedding planner now.

Castiel had been thrilled when Sam had said yes when he had asked to help, he had been grateful Sam had chosen him. He and Gabriel worked odd hours and Castiel just knew they would never get a chance to plan properly, so he had volunteered.

Of course he’d do whatever he could for Sam. He was like family to Castiel, a bestfriend that Castiel didn’t think he’d ever have. Even when Sam had found out about Castiel’s problems, he had wanted to learn more, to _help,_ and that in itself made Castiel happy and confident to actually take the job Sam had offered him all those years back.

Being a teacher was the best thing that Castiel could ask for.

Castiel turned his phone off and stretched out on his seat. His laptop sat on the table before him, puttering away music as he returned back to the work placed before him.

Sam had given him a job to do. He was going to work alongside another teacher, Anna, and speak with one of the new students that would be in either his or Anna’s class next term. Currently, they were speaking with Anna. So he was free for the next hour or so. There was no one else around, other than Jo, the nice receptionist who always brought Castiel tea when he worked over the weekends. In fact, she should be bringing Castiel his tea soon.

As if on cue, the pretty blonde Jo walked into the room, holding a cup in one hand and a small tablet computer in the other. “Here’s your tea Castiel.”

“You know you don’t have to, Jo.” Castiel said, taking the cup offered to him and placing it on one of his coasters. He yawned quietly, lifting the cup to his lips. The warm tea slipped into his throat and a blissful moan escaped Castiel’s lips.

“Anna still talking with the new kid?” She asked, settling herself on the seat next to Castiel. Castiel nodded, glancing back at the fogged glass, seeing a limited view of the three people in the main office.

“I hope he’s not in my class,” Castiel murmured quietly to himself. It was always disruptive when there was a new person in his classes. His students already knew how he worked, and they worked around him. But a new student would ruin that equilibrium.

He was trying his best to sate his anxiety. And his thoughts returned to last night. Dean’s home, Dean’s bedroom, Dean’s fingers all over him...

Dean was…just amazing. But it was too early to say anything.

Stretching out, Castiel took off the blazer he wore and smoothed out his black slacks. He sipped at his tea, listening to Jo talk about her night last night.

“…tried to tell him no, but he just wouldn’t listen,” Jo continued, pausing to sip on her own tea. “So I got some random guy I’d been chatting up at the bar and—”

Castiel had stopped listening. His eyes darted up and he saw Dean Winchester standing at the doorway. He suddenly stood up in alarm.

What was he doing here?

Dean’s attention was turned to Castiel. Confusion burned in Castiel’s eyes, his thick rimmed glasses falling down the bridge of his nose. Dean smiled.

Castiel swallowed loudly. “Dean…what are you doing here?”

“We have to stick to our schedule, Cas.” Dean stated, his voice deep and commanding.

_Oh…_

No! He would not let himself be wavered by Dean. Not here, not now. He was a professional at his place of work. The gossipy receptionist was sitting in front of him, watching them both with rapt attention.

He was rather irked by Dean’s proper stature, he wanted desperately to straightened his own back, hold his head high and keep his speech formal. But this man made everything around him quake.

Damn it Dean!

“Good morning, Jo,” Dean said, smiling at the blonde. Jo stuttered and nodded her greetings back to him. “I’d like to speak with Castiel, alone, if you’d just--”

Jo shook her head, standing up and making her way out of the teachers’ lounge quickly. The door thudded quietly behind her.

Castiel sucked in a breath, staring into Dean’s penetrative gaze. What was Dean going to do to him now that they were alone in the room? Would Dean kiss him again?

At his work place?

“I spoke to Sam, he has given you today off,” Dean continued, stepping closer to Castiel. His sultry voice made Castiel feel breathless and weak. “Want to get some breakfast?”

“Dean, please.” Castiel tried to intervene, eyeing the gorgeous man wearily. He had to stop these feeling erupting inside him. One glance and Castiel was done for.

But, Dean Winchester wasn’t just some mere man.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Dean said, leaning back against the panelled walls. “Let’s get something to eat,”

“I don’t think it’s wise.” Castiel said. But it went unheard as Dean stood up and walked around the desk. He laid his hands on the arms of Castiel’s chair, trapping him in place as he leaned closer. He smirked as he heard Castiel’s sharp intake of breath.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”


	12. Chapter 12

They walked through the bustling streets, meandering through the throngs of Saturday shoppers and goers. Castiel sucked in a breath, his hands instinctively reaching for Dean's. His anchor against the people walked into him. Dean's grip on him was tight, possessive, and safe.

“This isn’t half-bad,” Castiel murmured happily into the remains of the crepe he held in his hands. He winced as someone accidentally brushed passed him, talking loud into their phone.

Oh…he couldn’t do this. Ge should have listened to Dean. He knew Dean was trying his best to help him, but…he was reaching his limit.

“It should be, they’re the best in town,” Dean chuckled. He smiled, watching as Castiel took another small bite out of the chocolate confectionary. He looked so calm against the raging sea of people, but Dean knew inside he was almost at his limit.

His nails were unconsciously digging into his hand.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Dean suddenly said, his candy green gaze bore into Castiel's, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Castiel shrugged, wincing again as another person brushed passed him. The wrapper crunched noisily in his hands, throwing the wrapper into the nearest bin.

“Let’s take a stroll through the park,” Dean suggested, pulling Castiel closer to him.

Castiel complied, wrapping his arms around Dean, wanting to get closer to him and away from everyone else. Castiel could deal with Dean. He felt at home with him.

“I haven’t been there before,” Castiel said, mostly to himself. He had always passed the local garden park, but had never gone inside. There were always too many people around, always too many chances of them touching him, of him dropping and getting a panic attack.

“Would you like to go with me?” Dean asked, his voice was quiet and low, but Castiel heard him through the many people walking passed them.

He nodded slowly, almost coming into terms with himself. He trusted him. Dean would keep him safe…right?

Dean took a tighter grip of his hand, noticing Castiel quiver against him. He wrapped his arm around Castiel's shoulder, pulling the smaller man closer to him, hiding Castiel to his side, protecting him from the people as they meandered down the streets.

Castiel gazed at his shoulder, where their hands were intertwined. Was this really happening?

They stopped outside of the central parks large gates. The garden meadows welcomed Castiel with their natural beauty, but the many people walking back and forth endeared him.

He wasn’t able to voice his opinions as Dean pulled him into the park. They walked slowly through the gates and deeper into the park.

Dean was going slow, letting Castiel get used to everything around him.

It was such a beautiful day, exceedingly hot for August, almost perfect to go out for a walk. If it wasn’t for the kids on bikes and scooters zooming past them.

“…about children?” He heard Dean say.

Huh? Crap, Dean had asked him something. He had been so lost in his stupid psychosis that he missed something Dean had said. What if it was important?

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel murmured, looking down. “Could you repeat that?”

Dean smirked, rolling his eyes. “I asked, what do you think about children?”

“Having one or in general?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Indulge me,”

“Adoption after marriage is fine, but the actual act, I don't think I can do it,” Castiel said almost immediately, wishing he hadn’t. If he couldn’t touch anyone else without going into a mini-panic attack, how was he going to have sex?

Not that he was interested, the idea of touching another person, exchanging fluid, sliding over one another again and again made him feel sick.

But…his mind reprimanded him. It didn’t feel like that with Dean.

Dean-sexual. That’s what he was now. His fingers gripped on Dean, the taller man's arm still around Castiel's shoulders tightened, pulling him closer.

“Would you like to try?” He asked.

Castiel turned a bright shade of red, his heart thumped madly in his chest. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Dean's penetrating green.

Did Dean just…propose to him?

“It’s really warm!” Castiel said loudly, pushing Dean away from him. Hhe stepped back, running his fingers through the tips of his hair, pushing them back.

Entranced, Dean’s gaze dropped from his nervously dark blue eyes darting this way and that to his throat.

“Would you like some ice-cream?” He said suddenly, smirking. Castiel didn’t like that smirk. But he followed Dean’s enthusiasm as they reached an ice-cream vendor.

Dean relished the sound of Castiel’s gentle, lilting voice when he ordered. How he loved a smooth, deep drawl. Their bodies were so close, Dean could smell the clean scent of his lotion, could taste the chocolate on his lips. The memory of their first kiss in the elevator was so vivid in his mind, the feel of Castiel’s soft creamy skin under his fingers, the warmth in his silky hair.

Two bicyclers shot passed them, making Castiel jump up in shock. He took a step back and fell into Dean’s embrace, crushing his cheek against Dean’s chest and sucked in a fear-filled breath.

Oh…Castiel paused. He smells really good, like motor oil and wildflowers.

Dean couldn’t breathe. He was prepared for Castiel to yell at him, or worse, go into a panic attack. But he hadn’t expected this.

Dean had done this so Castiel could get into the spectrum of ‘impromptu surprise’. But it was he who was surprised. Every delicious inch of Castiel was pressed against his, and for those few moments, his body stirred viciously in response to the smaller man.

The need arose in him to taste his parted lips once again. It would be so easy…just lean down and-

Shaking his head from his thoughts, he pulled back slightly to study Castiel’s face.

Castiel wasn’t panicking. He was just a little scared and angry. But he was touching Dean voluntarily. He was getting through to Castiel. That was good.

“You okay?” Dean laughed and wrapped his arms around Castiel again, engulfing the man with his immense height. Inhaling deeply into Castiel’s hair, he noticed the man smelled of cleanliness with a hint of roses and blossoms.

Damn…Dean knew he was interested in Castiel, he had known since he had first seen the teacher walking up the school steps, his dark blue eyes hidden behind rain-soaked glasses, his lips set in a thin, angry line. In that single instant, Dean knew he wanted Castiel

He was amazing.

And it only got better when he found out this gorgeous man was Castiel Novak, the man he was supposed to help, the man he was going to spend the next three months with.

It was as if the fates were smiling down on him.

Dean was brought back to the present when he felt Castiel hand him the cold confectionary.

“Let’s go out on a date,” Dean said abruptly.

Castiel paused. Was Dean asking him out?

No, that can’t be.

“Please, Dean―”

“So it’s settled then,” Dean interrupted Castiel, taking a lick of his ice cream.

Castiel stopped, unable to take the sight of Dean licking the vanilla cone almost obscenely. “…Dean,”

“Cas,” His voice was deep and husky.

Castiel pushed him back with embarrassment. Castiel was looming in front of him, his face inches away, his gaze hooked on Castiel’s face.

Dean frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Too close…I don’t…” He grimaced, that’s not really what he wanted to say. He shook his head. “Nothing. I'm just a little claustrophobic.”

“You’re claustrophobic as well?” Dean asked, narrowing his gaze. Castiel hadn’t told him this, and he hadn’t deduced it either.

Was he getting sloppy? Or was Castiel just too distracting?

Castiel sighed and nodded to him, looking away with a faint blush on his face. Great, one more fault for Dean to find in him. If he wasn’t so interested in Castiel’s abnormalities, he’d probably have run fast and far by now.

Castiel gladly took the ice cream melting in his hand and followed Dean out of the park.

Would this outing be counted as a…date?

No, it can’t be. Dean didn’t think that way of him, did he?

Castiel looked up at him through his lashes and saw Dean’s gaze running over his body until Dean caught his eyes with his own. A shiver ran through Castiel as Dean quickly looked away, clearing his throat, a faint red on his cheeks.

Oh…my—

Castiel stumbled on something on the ground and slammed hard against the concrete. Pain shot like lightening up his leg and he winced.

“Castiel!” Dean yelled, swooping down to his fallen form and helping him up.

“I’m fine,” Castiel murmured, feeling the ache subside. At least it wasn’t that bad. Some dirt on his jeans, but other than that, it was alright.

This was just bloody perfect, Castiel thought to himself. Why couldn’t the earth just swallow me up now?

“Climb on.” Castiel opened his eyes to see Dean kneeling before him, offering his back for Castiel to climb on. “Let me take you away, angel.”

The redness of Castiel’s face only doubled at his words. But Castiel complied and wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders, hooking his aching legs around Dean’s waist.

“This is so embarrassing,” He muttered to himself, burying his head into Dean’s neck as he stood up. Castiel felt so safe with him, like this. “Aren’t I heavy?”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Cas,” He straightened Castiel on his back, holding onto the back of his thighs with a tight grip. “You’re very light, it makes me wonder of your health.”

“I eat just fine.” Castiel mockingly replied. Dean grinned holding him tighter and making their way back to the entrance gates of the park. “I need to get home and change,”

“My apartment is closer,”

Castiel mocked a frown, thudding Dean on his shoulder. “Already taking me to your house are you? What kind of guy do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who’s afraid to touch, but just climbed onto me without batting his pretty eyelashes,”

Castiel paused. He hadn’t even given climbing on Dean’s back a second thought.

Dean was right! This sort of therapy was working!


	13. Chapter 13

Sam slumped onto the sofa, glad that he was finally home from that annoyingly long dance lesson with the stupid French instructor.

The things he did for his soon-to-be-husband…

Yawning widely, he watched as Gabriel returned back from the kitchen with two drinks. He accepted with a smile and lay back onto the sofa, taking hold of the controller and switching on the television sitting at the corner of the living room.

With a content sigh, Gabriel sat next to his soon-to-be-husband, laying his head on Sam chest, and relished on the moment that he could share with his fiancé, without worrying about the wedding or work.

“We should move out of here.” Sam suddenly said.

Gabriel raised his head up and looked at him. “Where did that idea come from?”

“We’re getting married in a few days,” Sam stated, tightening his grip around Gabriel’s shoulders, as Gabriel dropped his head back onto Sam chest, listening to his heartbeat as he spoke. “I’m thinking about the future, when we have kids, we’ll need a bigger house.”

“You’re right,” Gabriel murmured, his eyes drifting closed. “But we’ll think about that when the time comes, right now I just want to lay here before—”

The phone rang, echoing through the apartment. Gabriel groaned and got up, reaching over for the phone and aggravatingly held it up to his ear.

Resisting the idea to yell over the phone, he took in a deep breath and said a quaint hello.

“Hello my darling baby brother!” Anna Milton’s chirpy voice spoke out. Gabriel smiled brightly, not having spoken to his sister for a long while.

“Hey Anna! How have you been?”

“Not bad,” Anna sighed. “Been busy. I called to ask about the 'residential problem’ we’ve been having.”

“Residential problem?” Gabriel asked, what was Anna on about?

Anna gasped. “Has your friend, Castiel not told you? Since you can’t accommodate us in your house, Castiel had gotten us a few floors of a hotel,”

“He…what?” Gabriel turned to Sam, who shrugged his shoulders, as clueless as Gabriel was on this matter.

To him, it was just one other thing that they didn’t need to fret over, they already had so much on their plates as it was.

“Right, I’ll talk to him.” She said to Gabriel, eager to talk to him more, but knowing that her brother would surely call later in the evening so they could talk properly.

“You’re coming over from Miami,”

“Yup, like I’d miss your wedding!” She exclaimed, Gabriel clenched onto the phone with excitement. “I’ll be there the day after tomorrow, along with the rest of the enormous family.”

“I’ll see you then,” Gabriel said, giving his sister a long goodbye before placing the phone back on its cradle.

“What was that about?” Sam asked, motioning for Gabriel to return to where he was before. Gabriel complied and lay back down onto his chest.

“Castiel has gotten a place for all of our family to live in while they are here,” He muttered, snuggling deeper into his future-husbands embrace.

“I thought  _ we _ were paying for the hotel,” Sam said, he rolled his eyes as he followed his fiancé’s thoughts and wrapped his arms tighter around him. “He doesn’t tell us a thing.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel murmured, running his fingers over Sam chest. “We’ll pay him back in strides,”

“It’s nice of him,” He replied, running his fingers over Gabriel’s back. “Though I liked to have done it myself, I mean, they are our family, not his.”

“I feel the same way,” Gabriel said, nodding into Sam’ chest. “But with the way things are going with him and Dean, we might all be related very soon.”

Sam nodded, chuckling low.

“God, we’re getting married.” Sam whispered, his eyes widening in realization. “I can’t believe it,”

“Me neither,” Gabriel laughed, looking up into his deep hazel green eyes. “I’d thought you’d get sick of me by now.”

“Who said I’m not?”

~~

Castiel thought he could get away from Dean for a few hours, catch his breath before their ‘date’ later on that night, but he knew the fates had something against him. They were laughing at him this very moment.

When he had first arrived to the tailors – after an extensively long shower in which he had the time to get his thoughts away from the elusive candy green eyed man that had been in his mind– he first saw his friend and AD looking anxious and ambiguous as he stood in front of the building, not really sure whether to go in or not.

Castiel guessed he’d feel the same way if he knew that going in there meant that he’d be finalising the commitment he had made with his significant other.

Spending the rest of your life with someone.

It wasn’t something Castiel had ever thought he’d want for himself, let alone get. No one ever really wanted anything other than a short-lasting friendship with him. His psychosis didn’t help and not many people could help him through his panic attacks.

Castiel imagined it would be a nice concept, having a person to take care of you, look after you in a way only they could. It’d be nice to sit together on the sofa and watch TV, or go outside and spend the day just talking and doing things they both loved to do.

But those sorts of things were impossible for him. One look at him was enough to have someone run far and run fast.

Castiel was happy with his books and stories. Especially those that showed romance beyond sex, that showed the man devoted and in love with the woman. And the woman wanting nothing more than the man. It was nice, but it was fiction.

His latest romance novel was much like that, he mused. The alpha/omega dynamic always made him itch to finish the story. Castiel always dreamed of an ‘alpha’, someone who would care for him, protect him against all odds. That person would be his soul mate, no one would be able to separate them.

But again… it was all fiction.

Castiel had to hold in a chuckle as he watched Sam turn to the other man standing next to him. Castiel knew that with Sam’s heavy scheduled days, even outside of school times, he didn’t have much time to take days off to get fitted into his Tuxedo at an earlier stage, but with only a week left until the wedding, Castiel was sure he was just a nervous wreck.

That was also when Castiel finally noticed the other male surrounding him and ushering him inside.

Oh god, no. This is totally unfair!

“Dean Winchester?”

The man in question turned with a bright smile. “Cas, what are you doing here?”

Castiel pointed to Sam, answering his question as Sam pulled the smaller man in for a hug. Castiel nervously wrapped his arms around Sam, his anxiety pressing in his mind. Sam must really be freaking out if he didn’t remember Castiel’s psychosis. He was always aware.

Castiel had known Sam for almost a decade now, they were friends before he had been given a job. So Sam knew just when to let Castiel go before he went into a panic attack.

“I can’t do this Castiel,”

“Now Sam,” Castiel reprimanded, forcing him inside the building. “You’ve come this far with Gabriel, I’m not about to let you stop here.”

Sam nodded, gathering his courage and walking into the tailors. Dean followed, but Castiel held him back.

“You’re the best man?”

Dean shook his head, ushering Castiel into the tailors. “Yup,”

“Do you know Gabriel as well?” Castiel said quickly, unable to take the sudden smallness of the world.

“Gabriel works in the same hospital as me,” Dean replied. He was a medical psychiatrist as well? “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I never knew…” Castiel murmured, sad and frustrated. He felt like he should have known this, Gabriel was his  _ friend _ . How many times must Gabriel have seen Dean when he went to the hospital to meet his future husband? When Castiel would refuse because there were too many people, too much anxiety?

He felt awful.

Dean smirked. “You never asked,”

They stepped into the tailors, the smell of leather hung heavy in the atmosphere as a young tailor walked up to them, looking smug.

The frown that suddenly appeared on Sam’s face proved that this was going to be a very long day.


	14. Chapter 14

An hour later, Sam was still playing his favourite game, which involved standing around with a scowl on his face and listing, in excruciating detail, what they could have done instead of what they were doing, which was getting married in what he described in his better moods as a three-ring circus, and in his worse, a ‘Bloody Good Preview of the Torments of Hell’.

“We could have gone to Hawaii, we could have gone to a marriage hall, we could have had a civil ceremony,” roared Sam, reluctantly raising one arm for the dressmaker to finish fitting the Tuxedo to him, “We could have gone to Canada and been married at Green Gables―” Sam had stolen Gabriel’s set of the Anne of Green Gables series four years before and still pretended he didn’t have them “—We could have been married at the top of Mount freaking Everest and it still would have been less trouble than this!” A moment’s pause for breath. “And,” he added grimly, “If we’d gone to Everest I wouldn’t be stuck in this stupid suit!”

“Is same-sex marriage legal in Canada?” Castiel asked, clasping his hands together, beaming up at Sam from his seat on the table opposite him.

“I don’t care. What’s going on with Gabriel, anyway?” Sam asked Dean, settling on the fact that Castiel would definitely know more about his future husband’s outfit. “Why are you here and not with him?”

Castiel gave him a look. “The groom is not supposed to know what the other groom is up to until the ceremony,” he said firmly.

“Stupid rule—ow!” said Sam, glaring at the tailor.

“Don’t squirm and you won’t get poked,” Dean said, peering up from the newspaper before him, sitting on the chair next to Castiel.

“Shut up.” But he was quiet for a moment while the dressmaker pinned the sides of the jacket.

“How is Gabriel doing?” Castiel suddenly asked, tilting his head to one side. Why hadn’t he had time to go see his friends? Was he really that hopeless?

“He’s over excited,” Sam grimaced as the dressmaker pricked at his skin. “But he’s got his finals a few months after the wedding, so…”

“I don’t believe it,” Castiel smiled brightly. “If he complains, tell him it was him who chose this date.”

“August weddings are all the rage…” Dean muttered sarcastically under his breath.

A few moments of silence later, the tailor tutted his finish. He turned his dark green gaze at Castiel and tutted once again.

“Sirs,” The tailor insisted, ushering Castiel and Dean out of the room. “If you will follow me, I require the groom on his own.”

Tilting his head to one side, Castiel shrugged his shoulders and bounced off the table, they were probably going to go all the way and tailor the entire outfit for Sam’s wedding, including his underwear.

“See ya later, bitch,” Dean retorted, folding the newspaper up and placing it on the table.

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam stood on the stool, looking lost and rather nervous as Castiel patted him on the shoulder.

“Have fun!” Castiel muttered, walking out of the room into the front shop. He suddenly paused, making Dean stumble onto his back. “Oh, my phone!”

“I’ll get it,” Dean offered, walking back into the room. “I don’t think you’d want to go back in there,”

Castiel smiled and nodded, watching Dean as the door closed behind him.

“Hey, Cas’s phone is ringing,” Sam stated as he took off the Tuxedo blazer. Nodding, Dean picked up the phone that was sitting at the table and held it to his ear.

“Hello,” He said cheerily, hoping for it not to be a client. He didn’t want Castiel to rush to work, especially when they had a date later. “Castiel’s cell,”

“Who is this?” An old sounding woman’s voice said over the phone.

Dean raised an eyebrow as he walked back through the door and into the front shop. “Dean Winchester, whom shall I say is calling?”

“I am Castiel’s aunt, please give him the phone.” Shrugging his shoulders, he spotted Castiel looking at a few cuff links at the corner of the shop.

“Hey, Cas, it’s your aunt.” He muttered to the smaller man, handing him the phone.

Castiel paled.

“Oh...dear god no.” He grabbed the phone and took in a deep breath before holding it up to his ear. “Hello auntie.”

“Don’t you ‘hello auntie’ me,” Castiel grimaced as he held the phone a few inches away from his face. “Who was that man? What is he doing with you? He doesn’t seem right.”

Castiel tried to get a word in. “Auntie, you haven’t even met him yet,”

“That’s a must. Is he your boyfriend?” She sounded rather angry as she spoke. “You know how I feel about that kind of relationship, if they aren’t serious, they’ll throw you away and you’ll get your heartbroken.”

“Auntie, I haven’t ever had a relationship, it’ll be a good experience to get my heartbroken.” He watched Dean look at a few dark coloured ties, his eyebrow rising upwards. Was Dean eavesdropping? “And anyway, Dean’s not like that, he’s different.”

“All men are the same Castiel,” His aunt stated, as if it were a solid fact. “What makes him so different?”

He’s Dean Winchester...that’s what makes him different...

“Auntie, please. It’s more serious than that, but he’s just my―”

She interrupted him again. “More serious? He’s your fiancé? Does your mother know about him?”

“Auntie no! He’s not—”

“You haven’t even told your mother about him?” She butted in, Castiel incredulously tried to speak, but was interrupted every time. “This is not right, I will be taking the first flight out. I want to meet this man.”

“Auntie! He’s not my—” The dial tone interrupted him this time. “Fiancé.”

Castiel slumped down on one of the comfy looking single sofas, mind in inner turmoil.

What the bloody hell had just happened?

“I’m your fiancé, huh?”

“You heard,” Castiel held his head in his hands. “Oh god, she’s definitely going to tell my mother. I'm as good as dead...”

Dean rested his hand on Castiel’s back, moving up and down rhythmically, trying to soothe him of his worries. “You can tell your mother the truth, it’s alright. Everything will work out.”

Castiel sighed. “Thanks alpha—I mean Dean,” Castiel’s eyes widened at the sudden slip up.

“ _ Alpha? _ ”

Damn his weird fetish. Castiel shouldn’t have been reading all those alpha/omega stories all his life. The dynamic was always so intriguing to him. And Dean was acting like a typical alpha, taking care of him, keeping him safe, keeping him sane.

But it was supposed to be a secret, something he’d take to the grave.

Castiel was about to explain it to Dean but his phone rang once again. Glad for this interruption, he picked it up.

“Novak,”

The voice on the other end of the line made his heart pound in fear. “Your aunt just called me and told me something very interesting.”

“M-mother!”

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” If auntie was sounding angry, his mother sounded furious. “Who is this man? Why haven’t your father and I met him before you decided to get engaged? Is he right for you? Does he treat you well? We must meet him.”

“No, mother, he’s not my―”

He was interrupted, yet again. “And to think, out of all of your brothers, you’d be the one to dishonour us,”

Castiel’s face suddenly fell. “Mother, you don’t understand.”

“You will come home with this man and we will see if he is suitable for you.” The statement was made, his mother wanted to see his 'fiancé’. “I cannot deny what your heart wants, but your father and I will make sure this man fits our family’s requirements.”

“No, mother―hear me out!”

The phone cut off once again.

In a fit of rage, Castiel flung his phone back into his bag and held his head in his hands. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Dean returned to running his fingers on Castiel’s back. “I'm sorry, I didn’t know, I―”

“I don’t blame you,” He muttered through his fingers. “My family doesn’t really listen to reason. I’ll explain it to them.”

“I didn’t think getting engaged to me would cause such a problem.” Dean said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, being engaged to you would probably be a dream come true,” Castiel muttered, not caring that what he was saying would just scare Dean away. “It’s just getting past my parents,”

Dean’s silence was overwhelming. But Dean’s reply made him shiver. “You want to  _ marry _ me?”

“Th-that’s preposterous,” He said, flustered, not looking at Dean as he nervously bit his lip. “We aren’t even going out,”

“I don’t know about that.” He murmured, tapping his lightly on Castiel’s nose. “We  _ are _ going on a date tonight.”

Castiel barely had time to register what Dean had just said, let alone reply as Sam walked out of the back room, relieved that it was all over. His gaze faltered when he saw an earnestly smiling Dean and a flustered Castiel. “Did I miss something?”

‘Yeah, Dean and I are engaged now...’ Castiel thought to himself. ‘Somehow…’

“You’re done Sam?” Dean asked, getting up.

Sam nodded, walking over to the front and waiting for the tailor to come with the receipt. “I’ll have to pick up the tux tomorrow, after Gabriel’s family come over.”

“Why don’t I pick it up for you?” Castiel asked, knowing that it was better for Sam to be with his family than running errands for his wedding.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, picking at the receipt the tailor gave him.

Castiel nodded. “I have to pick up Gabriel’s suit tomorrow, so I’ll pick up your tux as well,”

Sam took Castiel into a brotherly hug, as Castiel stood tense. “You’re the best.”

He rigidly patted Sam on his back, chuckling lightly. “I know.”

“Where are you headed now?” He asked the two of them as they made their way out of the tailors.

Castiel looked down nervously. “We―uh are going to go watch a movie.”

“Oh really,” Sam looked thoughtful for a moment. “We do need some time away from the wedding. What are you going to watch? Gabriel and I’ll come as well.”

Castiel smiled. He hadn’t had a chance to hang out with his friends, so maybe this was the best opportunity. Being with his friends would help him a lot. Castiel nodded, but before he could answer, Dean interrupted.

“Sorry, Sammy.” He stated, pulling Castiel closer to him as they made it to their cars. Castiel let out a deep sigh of breath as a shiver ran through his arm from where Dean touched him. “We’re going together,”

Sam’s eyes widened as he stared blankly at Castiel. “Oh, you’re going ‘out’ out?”

“Yeah, so maybe next time?” Dean smiled brightly, they stopped in front of Sam’s car.

Sam gazed at Castiel curiously. He knew what Dean was like, he had to make sure Castiel was okay with this.

“Definitely,” Castiel said, reassuring Sam that it was fine. Sam nodded and got into his car. He gave them once last glance and drove off.

“So,” Castiel muttered, watching the car leave.

“Shall we get going?” Dean asked. He offered his elbow to the smaller man. Castiel hesitantly took it.

“I need to change,” Castiel said quietly, looking down at his attire. Sure he had had a shower a few hours back, but he needed to get the smell of leather out of his clothes.

Dean didn’t say anything, he just nodded and ushered Castiel into his car.


	15. Chapter 15

“Pull the laces over, then under, then pull it tight, make a bow, pull it through to do it right,” Castiel muttered, his fingers twisting on the laces as he spoke the words. They were running late and sadly the restaurant they were going wouldn’t be impressed with Velcro runners or flats. So black dress shoes it was.

Dean rushed around him, checking his hair one last time and grabbing the keys to the car before hurrying over to where Castiel still sat, struggling with his laces.

“Come on Cas,” he said. “We’ve got a reservation to keep,”

Castiel huffed in frustration, his fingers getting tangled in the laces. “My shoes,” he said plaintively. He pulled the laces loose once again, not even knowing why he bothered anymore.

Dean marched over to him, kneeling before him and tied the laces for him, twice for good measure. “I know it aches, but it’ll have to do. You haven’t eaten since this morning and I’m starved too.”

Dean smiled brightly as he pulled Castiel’s hand, Castiel’s protests falling on deaf ears. He kissed Castiel hard mid-complaint. By the time Dean pulled back, Castiel was too busy gasping for air to complain anymore.

The arrived at the restaurant five minutes late, making their reservations moot. Castiel braved the local diner, wanting to make it up to Dean. They both laughed over the strange looks they got in their suits as they munched away on their burgers.

Movie tickets safe in their respective wallets. Castiel’s laces remained tied.

~~

Castiel held a tight grip on his phone, noticing his shaky and sweaty grip falter as he held it close to his ear. Dressed in only a large towel, he took in deep breaths as he waited for the person to pick up. Damn horror movies…

He had only resorted to this because he didn’t have anyone else to turn to when he was this scared. Castiel’s gaze ran over his dark room to the clock that flashed the lights '2.00am’ in their red splendour. Oh no, it’s way too early to call him. I’ll just—

“Win-yawn-chester,”

Castiel grimaced at the sleep resonating in Dean’s voice and took in another deep breath and with a quake in his voice as he replied. It was too late to stop now, it was now or never.

“Hello, hello. Hi. It’s Castiel. I'm sorry for calling so late.”

“What’s the matter?” Dean sounded more alert.

“I―well,” Castiel looked around to the dimly lit room, sighing at his own stupidity. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You're scared aren’t you?” He could hear the humour in Dean’s voice. “I told you we shouldn’t have watched that movie.”

“But you wanted to―” A sudden thud sounded from above him and he jumped. “Could you please come over?”

He could hear the rustle of cloth against cloth. “I’ll be there soon.”

Castiel shivered as he held the phone as if it were his life support. “Actually, could you stay on the line?”

“Alright, I’ll put it on speaker. Just let me just get dressed.” Castiel heard him place the phone down as he started to dress himself. A blush rose to his face at the thoughts running through his mind. Dean…undressing… “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks alpha…” He murmured.

“Alpha?” Castiel sucked in a breath, how had he let _that_ out? “We should address this in our next meeting,” Castiel rolled his eyes. A few moments later, he heard the sound of Dean’s door closing and then the revving of a cars’ engine. “Get some clothes on.”

Castiel looked down to his towel clad self, astonished. “How did you—?”

“You clenched my hand at the shower scene,” Castiel smirked, rolling his eyes. “How could I forget you pressed up against me? I’m still thinking about it and it’s getting really difficult to drive because of it.”

A tint of red took over his face as his eyes widened in embarrassment. “Dean Winchester!”

“Quit full-naming me, I’m on my way.”

A few minutes had passed and Castiel had changed into his pyjamas. He rushed back to his phone, wanting to see how far Dean was. Castiel jumped when the doorbell rang through his house. He rushed to the door and held it slightly ajar.

Dean stood at the doorway, completely soaked from the torrid monsoon. Castiel reverted his gaze from Dean’s intense candy green eyes and followed a drop of rain slither from his spiky blonde hair, over his lightly freckled cheek until it stopped at the corner of his mouth.

...wow…

This is turning into something that he’d lost all control over.

Castiel stepped back and gave Dean way into his house. “I’m sorry for making you come here so late.”

Dean smiled, taking Castiel’s breath away.

“You just can’t get enough of me, can you, angel.” He teased, laughing as he shrugged off his coat, placing it on the hook by the door.

“That’s not it.” Castiel muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just…scared,”

Dean nodded and strolled deeper into the home, walking into the welcoming living room and the incessant heat. “Why is it so warm in here?”

“The furnace is broken,” Castiel muttered, watching in anticipation as Dean pulled open a few of his shirt buttons.

Focus Castiel…

He shook the thoughts out of his mind. “The repair man will be here in the morning but we’re stuck like this for the night.”

He wanted Dean to stay here for– “The whole night?”

Castiel nodded, albeit rather hesitantly. He ushered Dean to the seat and disappeared into the kitchen.

Dean sat back into the sofa sitting facing the television mounted on the wall and glanced at the fully open windows. The wind was non-existent in the monsoon-like weather that had taken over the city. It only fuelled the heat.

Dean pulled open a few more of his buttons, fanning at his exposed chest with his shirt. He raised an eyebrow at the darkness; only one lamp was on, sitting on the table beside a large comfy chair. There was an opened book sitting on the chair. It looked haunting.

No wonder Castiel was so scared.

Castiel returned with two tall glasses of drink. Dean took one from him and took a sip.

“What’s with the lights?” Dean asked, setting the glass onto the table. “Wanting to set the mood?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Light produces heat, and we don’t want more, now do we?”

“I don’t know about that,” Dean leaned into Castiel, cornering him against the high arms of the sofa, a teasing glint in his eyes. Dean’s fingers ran over the collar of Castiel’s short sleeved pyjamas. Castiel’s gaze widened in surprise and a gasp escaped his lips as Dean undid a few of the buttons.

Dean’s instincts were screaming at him here, but physical force would certainly not be needed. There were many ways he could seduce Castiel, not that he needed to. Castiel already belonged to him.

Castiel’s breathing elevated. Dean seemed to be thinking of something, but he couldn’t figure out what. Dean’s mouth was smiling, but Castiel noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. Those candy green eyes seemed to be calculating, or weighing the odds of something.

“Shall we continue therapy after hours?” Dean muttered to Castiel as he lowered his fingers to the next button, opening it quickly.

Despite himself, Castiel found himself nodding. His heart racing at the husky timber of Dean’s voice. Oh, say what he wanted, if he were in one of the books he devoured, Dean Winchester was his alpha. The man’s voice alone held the power to make Castiel squirm and pant.

He tried to look nonchalant; he had no desire to let Dean know what his voice was doing him. He was certain information like that would only be used to suit Dean’s purpose.

“Just relax,” Dean muttered. Castiel didn’t even function when Dean slid his shirt off from his shoulders. He followed the silk down Castiel’s arm, leaving a tantalizing chill that caused goose bumps to appear on his skin. Dean tossed his shirt away to the dark corners of the room. Castiel didn’t want to look down, lest he really did something he would regret later on in life.

“Dean—”

His heart jumped when Dean stopped, leaning back with a glint in his eyes and a satisfied smirk on his face. “Gotta say, you know how to dress.”

Wha—oh no… Castiel looked down, finally noticing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His blush brightened as he was clad in nothing but his white boxer briefs.

“More skin contact?”

Dean held a finger to Castiel’s lips. “You don’t need to explain.”

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, trying – and failing – to hide himself from Dean’s curious view. He had to hold some dignity over this situation.

Oh god! He was in his underwear in front of Dean! He was such a scarlet man!

“Dean,” Castiel said, finally. He got up and glared steely into the man’s eyes. “I’ve only known you for a few days and you’ve turned from therapist to friend to date to fiancé,” Dean didn’t get a chance to interrupt as Castiel continued, looking away from him as he spoke quietly. “If this isn’t going anywhere, then I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it. This is just…too much.”

Silence broke through the apartment.

'I am pathetic...’ Castiel thought to himself, sighing loudly.

Dean scrutinized this new information. He shifted closer to Castiel, all but leaning on the smaller man as Dean hovered over him. “Do you want me to stop?”

Castiel’s eyes widened at the spontaneity of Dean’s request, trying to ignore the voice in his head that was screaming 'No! Don’t stop!’

“This is what I mean.” Castiel instead said, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to resist the tempting urge to agree with Dean. “Don’t you think this is going too fast?”

Dean didn’t understand why he wanted to go so fast with Castiel. He had always said that he wanted to be friends with someone then slowly escalate to lovers. But when he gazed at the man beside him, looking so innocent yet so alluring, Dean felt that this wasn’t going fast enough.

He reached up and traced his fingers along Castiel’s jaw, smirking when Castiel leaned against his hand. It was a big difference from the way he was when they first met.

“I know that if you really care for something, you've got to take it before it gets away.”

Dean paused, taking in a deep breath before he continued his ministrations, now running his fingers down to the smooth column of his throat. Castiel licked his lips and tried not to tremble in anticipation. Castiel was rather ticklish in places.

“I'm starting to really care for you, I want you.”

“W-Why?” Castiel moaned, biting his lip. What if Dean only wanted him for his psychosis? What if Dean didn’t like him at all? What if Dean was only being nice? Castiel tried to struggle against him, but Dean's weight on his body was too strong. Castiel's felt his mouth dry up as his eyes widened. If only Dean wasn’t so bloody perfect… “You barely know me.”

“You’re making me crazy.” Dean murmured, running his fingers through Castiel's hair, his fingers, featherl light against his sensitive throat. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to be with you.” He suddenly paused, making Castiel ache at his departure. “Am I scaring you?”

Castiel shook his head, taking in a few laboured breaths. Dean smiled, making his decision quickly, as he usually did, and moved his face closer. Castiel held a hand to his lips, stopping him.

He looked away, ashamed. “I just...I don’t know what to do.”

Dean's suggestion was quick. “I am here to help you, remember?”

“I…” Castiel gazed up at him slowly, looking into his deep green eyes.

“I won’t hurt you.” Dean's smile was genuine. He wouldn’t do anything that Castiel didn’t want him to do. “What does an alpha do?”

“P-protect his omega,” Castiel murmured.

Dean forced back a chuckle that was bubbling up at Castiel's innocent obedience. He didn’t expect their contract to move so quickly. He let his breath wash over Castiel for just a minute, preparing him. “Yup, and you, my angel, are my little omega.”

When the fear subsided in his eyes, to be lit by that flame of desire he had previously noted, Dewn took his mouth with his and Castiel saw fireworks.

Castiel could still feel the slight prickling of his drop, but it was soon submerged by the immediate heat that spread through his body.

Dean's lips on his were feather like, giving his the chance to respond, to take initiative. Castoel gasped at the soft feeling. Using that moment, he delved into his mouth, Dean's velvety tongue stroked his in a sensually light calling.

His body softened immediately, his lips and tongue became active, engaging in the barely controlled mating of their mouths. Passion sizzled through him, arousal growing and clamouring for release. Whisper soft, he licked Dean's bottom lip and nibbled on the corner of his mouth.

Dean pulled away and looked down at him, his eyes flashing a molten green.

“You’re mine now, angel,” he said with a husky growl.


	16. Chapter 16

Gabriel sighed in exhaustion, taking off his stethoscope and walking out of the emergency department and into the staff room. Nodding to his colleagues, he peeled off his white coat.

“I’m getting married tomorrow!” he murmured to himself.

He looked across the staff room and saw his good friend already out of the psychiatric ward and making his way to the fridges for a bottle of water.

Dean had the slyest grin on his face.

“I don’t want a bachelor’s party,” he said to Dean, already knowing what the man was going to say. He knew it was fruitless, what with the unending work over the last few months. Who was he to put the brakes on a party?

It was a thought he had often since he first got wind of Dean and his fellow colleagues planning the party for him. Sam had told Gabriel not to have Dean throw him a bachelor party, especially after the fiasco that was his own.

All Gabriel wanted to do was spend time with the man he loved. He still had to pinch himself every once in a while to make sure the whole thing wasn’t a dream. Thinking of Sam made his heart ache in the younger man’s absence.

“In my professional opinion,” Dean started, closing the cap to his water bottle. “I say, just go see your fiancé, it’s been almost twenty four hours, right?”

Gabriel found it annoying how Dean could read him like a book.

“You are not my therapist,” He brushed passed the man, not wanting Dean to see the grin on his face. Maybe he could take a few hours off and go see his future husband.

Dean laughed when he saw Gabriel screw up his nose. “Only Sam can make you smile like that,”

As they began walking out of the locker rooms, Gabriel turned to Dean. “How did I end up with someone like Sam?”

Dean nodded and looked at his watch. “Right on time,” he said playfully. He saw Gabriel’s confused look and said, “I’ve been waiting for the doubts to surface. I must admit, you held out longer than I thought.”

“Stop psychoanalysing me,” Gabriel stopped Dean by placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Sam and I have no doubt I want to marry him,” He patted Dean’s shoulder and continued walking, Dean followed. “I just keep wondering what I did to deserve a beautiful, intelligent, strong and caring man like Sam,”

Dean smiled. “I’m not sure you did anything to deserve it,” He knew it sounded wrong, when he realized Gabriel wasn’t by his side any more. He turned around to see Gabriel looking at him with his arms folded across his. Dean rolled his eyes and continued. “I mean, he loves you for you. All he needs is you. That’s enough.”

“You really think so?”

Dean nodded emphatically. “Absolutely, you have no reason to question anything. Just love him,”

Gabriel smiled.

“So are you ready for the party tonight?” Dean asked.

Gabriel stifled the sigh that wanted to escape. He had been to too many bachelor parties over the years, even organized a few. The constant themes of a bachelor party were the not so accurate telling of ‘war’ stories, booze and the ever popular stripper, or strippers. He was told he’d have both men and women to appease everyone.

But, he felt neither the need, nor desire, to tell lies, get drunk and watch strangers get undressed as they danced to funky music.

Sensing Gabriel’s hesitation, Dean opened the door and said in a disappointed voice, “It’s okay if you don’t want to do it, Gabriel. Sam has plans with his teacher friends tonight. Maybe we could just take in a movie or something, or get a couple of guys together and play some poker. Whatever you want to do.”

“Sam’s busy, so I’ll go through with it,” Gabriel said resignedly.

Dean slapped Gabriel’s shoulder and said happily, “Good. The bachelor party is almost as important as the wedding. It’s a tradition.”

~~

Dean squeezed the bridge of his nose, closing the door behind his last appointment. He worked at the hospital’s psychiatric ward every Tuesday and Thursday. It was long, tiring and a lot more work than his office. People ran back and forth almost constantly, and his clients were a lot more varied. But he enjoyed working here, seeing his job from a completely different outlet.

He was able to help more than just the people who came to his office. It made it all worthwhile.

His phone chose then to buzz. Dean reached for the phone in his pocket and smirked when he read the text message.

_ “Castiel’s drunk, look after him tonight.” _

Castiel…drunk? He didn’t drink. He was supposed to go to Sam’s party, spend a few hours there and then come straight back home. That was what they had agreed on last night.

But…he was drunk? Someone must have spiked his drink, or he must have been pressured into it. He’d told Dean he couldn’t drink alcohol.

Dean sent a quick confirmation message back to Sam. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

~~

Dean parked his car outside of Castiel’s house, seeing the man’s car parked in the drive, the tarp still over it. He hadn’t been driving. Thank goodness.

Stepping out of his car he spotted something that would forever be etched in his mind.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

There, knelt on the doormat, was drunken Castiel. He tried to put his key into its lock and failed terribly. His clothing was one to be desired. His navy button down was in disarray, buttons open, showing off his gorgeous chest. Dean sucked in a breath when he saw a faded bruise on his chest, a mark  _ he  _ had placed there the night before.

Oh, he was going to have trouble sleeping after this.

This  _ had  _ to be Sam’s doing. His brother was definitely the one who dressed cute, conservative Castiel like…like…well like that!

A hot shot of rage ran through him at the thought of other men seeing his like this. So beautiful, so vulnerable. He was glad he had left that mark on his Cas.

Dean slowly made his way over to the slumped man. “Angel, are you okay?”

Castiel peered up at him through his thick rimmed glasses. A bright smile erupted on his face when he recognised Dean. He vaulted up onto blonde, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck in a tight hug, the tips of his feet skimming on the ground.

Whoa…Castiel was a lot less reserved of his anxieties when he was drunk.

“Alpha!” Castiel purred cat like, tugging Dean’s tall frame down. “I missed you!”

Dean nodded slowly, lifting Castiel up from the ground to hug him properly. He brushed off any dirt that may have transferred onto the man’s clothes. Even if Castiel was drunk, Dean knew he still had a thing about being dirty.

“Give me your key, Cas.” He said, taking hold of the single keychain key. He slotted it into the keyhole and pushed the door open with his foot. He made sure he was careful this time, he didn’t want to break Castiel’s door down…again.

He picked Castiel up and walked into his house. Castiel bounced in his grasp, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck, similarly to when Castiel had almost fallen from his roof.

He pushed the door closed with his foot and navigated Castiel to his living room. He placed the inebriated man onto the sofa. Castiel fell onto the plush leather with a ‘fwump’ and started giggling madly.

“Alpha! I wan’tell you a secret,” He tugged at Dean’s sleeve, forcing him to lean over.

Dean smirked at the nickname, Castiel purred every time he said it and it made Dean shiver. He complied, glad Castiel was out of his anxiety to act like this with him.

“I think sum’one spiked my drink,” Castiel said, leaning up and whispering in his ear. “I’ma l’ttle…nailed,”

Dean coughed back a bout of chuckles. “I think you mean hammered, angel.”

He rose back up and moved over to his feet, pulling Castiel’s shoes off and placed them onto the ground by the sofa. “Let’s get you into your bed,”

“But I’m not tired, alpha!” Castiel’s complaints were countered with a large yawn he tried to cover up. “I’m wide awake!”

“Come on angel,” He reached down to the man. “I’m going to put you to bed,”

Dean lifted him up and moved him up the stairs and into his bedroom. He laid Castiel down on the white covers. But Castiel took a tight hold of Dean’s collar and pivoted him around, making him lose his footing and fall onto the bed. Castiel laughed as he flipped Dean over and straddled him.

“Dean Winchester,” The way Castiel said his name made Dean shiver.

His hands immediately ran up to Castiel’s cloth clad waist to steady the man on his stomach rather than his cock, which was definitely showing its interest to Castiel’s state of dress.

“You’ve got to sleep, angel. You’ll feel better in the morning,”

Castiel shook his head and giggled, splaying his hands over Dean’s chest, making him suck in a deep breath. This was something Dean had never expected from Castiel.

Castiel was getting too close, too touchy with him.

It was slowly freaking him out, but at the same time he was so proud and so happy that Castiel was able to act normally around him. Castiel leaned closer to him, the warmth of his sweet breath tickling his face.

“Can I tell you another secret?” Castiel whispered again, his dark eyes gleaming under the barely there light.

“Sure, why not?” He let out a breath, clenching his eyes closed and trying to think of anything other than the man sitting on top of him.

“I’m madly in love with you.”

Dean’s eyes shot open. Castiel’s whisper was almost inaudible, but Dean had understood his drunken words. Did he just say…?

“You’re drunk, you don’t know what—” Castiel interrupted his bout of conversation, placing a finger onto his lips to silence him.

“You are my alpha,” He murmured. A grin spread across Dean’s face as Castiel leaned into him, chest pressing against hard chest. Dean sucked in a breath. “I can smell it on you,”

Dean sucked in a deep breath, willing his erection to go down. Castiel didn’t know what he was doing, he was drunk. Dean would  _ not  _ take advantage of him in this state.

Not…that he hadn’t done something like this with Castiel already.

_ Fuck. _

“I don’t know how you do it,” Castiel continued, his face buried in Dean’s neck. “But ever since I first saw you, I’ve wanted to rip off all of your clothes and fuck you until we’re both sore and can’t move,”

Dean’s heart stopped. The heat of Castiel radiated, permeating through his thin shirt and teased his insides. His green eyes took in Castiel’s features, slow and sure.

But Castiel was crying…

“I want to marry you, but I know you’ll eventually leave me because of my stupid fears and anxiety,”

Dean caught a tear escaping from Castiel’s eyes with the pad of his thumb, a dull ache pounding into his heart at the thought that he had made this man cry. He pulled Castiel close to him to console him, but Castiel looked up at him.

“I’m not sure what to do.” He held a thoughtful finger to his lips. “Are you sure you won’t let me have a taste?”

_ Oh, hell yes. _

But tastes always led to sips and suckles and then to something akin to devouring. Castiel wasn’t ready for that…they still had made a deal all those nights ago. He’d help him, and Castiel had submit to him. But no penetrative sex.

That was their unwritten rule.

Ambient light glinted in Castiel’s eyes. Too warm and inviting for a man who was still somewhat a stranger.

“You’re not in your right mind, angel. And I’d rather do this when you were,” He gasped when Castiel’s dark gaze bored into his. Castiel’s fingers curled, digging into his skin.

“Call me that again, alpha.” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, asking him silently to elaborate. “I get butterflies when you call me your angel,”

“R-really, I’ll keep that in mind.” His hand glided up Castiel’s back in an attempt to push him away. At the touch, Castiel’s spine curved, arching his torso and grinding against his cock.

This was not right, Dean couldn’t do this to him.

Sure from a psychiatric view this was the best thing he could ever hope for, an aphenphosmpobic willingly touching another person, touching  _ him,  _ especially in an intimate way. It showed his theory, his experimentation with owning and dominating Castiel, a success.

But the moral side of his brain won.

Castiel didn’t know what he was talking about. He still thought of Dean as just a psychiatrist, someone who was supposed to help him through his psychosis.

Dean pushed him away. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

Castiel nodded; somewhat disappointedly as he watched Dean roll his onto the side and get up off the bed, he shook his head and held onto Dean’s wrist.

“Stay?”

That one word made Dean rethink his possibility of their rather whimsical relationship. Nodding, he lay by Castiel’s side, pulling the covers over him and watching as Castiel curled his fingers into Dean’s shirt, wanting him closer but keeping him far at the same time.

Dean would have him, but just being here with Castiel like this was enough for now.


	17. Chapter 17

The incessant sunlight peered through the breezing curtains, falling onto the covers that took over the bed. A large lump curled in the middle of the covers, a pale hand rose up over the duvet and pulled it over his head.

Castiel groaned unpleasantly as he buried his face into the warm bed. It was a lot harder than he was used to, but it felt so warm, wrapped around his waist and legs, rising and falling as if it was breathing.

...hang on...breathing?

Castiel froze. Goosebumps appeared on his skin.

Who was this person? Why was Castiel touching him? Stop! Stop!  _ Stop! Get away! _

_ Fuck! He needed…he needed…Dean… _

His eyes snapped open, only to clench shut as he groaned. His head pounded against the sudden strain. He couldn’t see all that well without his glasses anyway and the dimness did not help either.

He sucked in the heat under the covers and slowly felt around.

It was skin, tanned, muscled, lithe skin, warm and invitingly smooth. The arms around his waist tightened as his ministrations slowed, a low moan escaping the man’s lips as he pulled Castiel closer to him and his welcoming body. Castiel shifted himself to accommodate to the man’s sudden change and completely froze as his leg rose higher up between Castiel’s thighs.

_ Dean…save me! _

He looked down to himself and sighed out in relief, noticing that he was dressed, although in albeit a vulgar manner.

What the hell happened last night?

All he remembered was going to Sam’s party last night, it was supposed to be just teachers in a small club, but they had moved onto a gay strip club. All Castiel could really remember was other teachers laughing at the male strippers trying to do a lap dance on the ‘groom-to-be’. Castiel had been drinking water and bottled fizzy drinks.

No…someone had spiked his drink.

_ Fuck. _

He felt a sheet of dread fall over him. Who was this person in his bed?

Oh god, what if he was a stripper?  _ So unclean! _

It certainly felt like one of the ‘hunky’ built men that had been parading around Sam. Castiel had politely declined there invites. But did he get so drunk that he dragged one home with him?

_ Dean! _

Castiel pulled the duvet over from his face, squinting against the bright morning sunlight. Once his eyes had adjusted, they widened into saucers.

Oh…god…

Dean! Dean! He was here! He was here to save – wait. Dean was in his bed. Those were Dean’s arms wrapped around his waist, Dean’s legs tangled with his own, Dean’s hot breath fanning over his head. Castiel held back a moan, glad his panic attack had been evaded.

How the hell did this happen? And why couldn’t he remember what would have most likely been the best night of his life?

Dean’s nose wrinkled cutely as he started to wake up. His beautiful green eyes opened up groggily and he stared around the room before relaxing onto Castiel’s face. A tired smile rose to his lips.

“Hnn,” He muttered, pulling Castiel closer and closing his eyes once again. “Wan’sleep,”

Castiel wanted to yell at him, wanted to know what the hell was going on. But his head was pounding like a drum and Dean was so warm. He was making the pain disappear completely.

“But, we should get up,” Dean mumbled, yet he made no indication into actually getting up. He instead dipped his head into the juncture of Castiel’s neck and sucked in a deep breath, taking in his scent and sighing loudly as Castiel shivered.

“Panic attack?”

Castiel shook his head. “Hangover, I think. And you have to tell me what happened last night.”

“Sam called me over to the club you guys went to,” Dean’s voice mumbled into his ear. Castiel’s eyes widened as he continued the story. “You were so drunk you started dancing on the tables.” A blush rose to Castiel’s face. He did something like that!

“I brought you home, and you stripped right in front of me. You begged me to make love to you, and I couldn’t say no,”

Castiel was at a loss for words. He was dancing on the tables, had stripped in front of Dean and begged him into his bed?

Dean’s musical chuckles broke Castiel out of his revere. He slapped Dean across his shoulder. The assbutt was joking. Rolling his eyes at him, Castiel pushed Dean’s large form from his and got out of bed. He heard Dean moan dejectedly at losing his company.

The blush painted on Castiel’s face had yet to leave as he got hold of a bathrobe and wrapped it around his ‘Moulin Rouge-inspired’ outfit. God damn Sam and his puppy-dog eyes. Those eyes were what got Castiel to purchase and dress in this provocative outfit. He wouldn’t be caught dead in it otherwise.

Well…his gaze darted to Dean sprawled on his bed and his mind swirled in the gutter at the thoughts running through them, those sheets, their bodies gliding, lips finding purchase, teeth biting.

_ Damn… _

Castiel rushed out of his bedroom and down the stairs into his empty kitchen. He pulled open his medicine drawer and took out a sachet of pain killers. He filled a glass with water, noticing that Dean had probably woken up earlier and drawn all of the curtains for him, knowing that he’d have a hangover the next day.

At least it was only a headache and not something worse. He swallowed the tablet and drank the water, quickly washing and placing the empty glass on the rack.

Not knowing what to do for the moment, he couldn’t go back and change, not with Dean sleeping in his room – a vibrant red rushed to his cheeks at the thought – so instead he reached over to the pile of letters placed on the table in the hallway and started sorting through them.

Leafing through them, his heart suddenly stopped.

“Oh…no.”

~~

Dean groaned at the coldness that enveloped him now that Castiel had retreated from his bed. It felt so nice to have Castiel in bed with him, he had slept so peacefully. Unlike the bad sleeping habits he usually had. He felt satisfied.

That was rather odd.

He looked down and noticed that he wasn’t wearing a shirt – well, maybe not everything about his bad sleeping habits had changed. Wondering how that had happened, he instead found it crumpled on the floor by the bed.

Sighing, he took it and straightened it out as best as he could before putting it on, not bothering to button up the front.

This felt oddly nice...he reminisced as he walked over to the kitchen, noticing Castiel leafing through the mail in the hallway. He reached into a cupboard and pulled out a frying pan, getting breakfast ready for both of them.

~~

Castiel glanced at the note in his grasp, in inner turmoil.

What was he going to do?

The beautiful missive glinted against the rising sun, daunting him.

_ “Anna lucked out. We need a bridesmaid for you. Bring a guest.” _

Shit. Shit.  _ Shit! _

Bring a guest? What guest? Who? Who in their right mind would want to spend the day with  _ him? _

Castiel slumped down onto the sofa. He didn’t even know how he had gotten from the hallway and into the living area, he blamed it on pacing.

Everyone he knew was already invited, and they each had equally important jobs, and he wasn’t sure that Sam – or himself – would appreciate any of his fellow work mates. None of them knew, or understood his need to have certain things a certain way.

He couldn’t even ask his siblings or other friends and family, he was the only person from his entire family who had settled away from home two years ago. It takes a good half-a-day to get to here. He doubted that they would be able to make it to the reception, let alone the wedding itself.

That and, after all, Sam and Gabriel were his friends, not his family’s.

And he couldn’t  _ not _ go. After all, he had promised the two that he would do anything in his power to make their day special and perfect. And perfect was that all four bridesmaids walk down the aisle with their grooms men.

Did he have the power to conjure up a person that wouldn’t make fun or ruin his best friends’ wedding? They already had so much on their plate.

But that still bid the question. “Who will go with me?”

“I will,” Dean’s voice resonated through Castiel’s empty house like a beacon of hope. Castiel looked up to see him peering through the kitchen door, seems like he had been standing there for quite a while. “Where are we going?”

Wait…maybe Dean…

Reality hit.

Could…could he go with Dean? He didn’t know.

But...he was Dean Winchester, smart, funny, amazing, gorgeous, Dean Winchester. The only man who Castiel could touch, hug, be with and not go into a panic attack.

A smile rose to his face.

Everyone would keel over if they saw him walking down the aisle with Dean Winchester. ‘…wait, walking down the aisle…You’re thinking too far ahead…Focus!’

Castiel took in a deep breath and looked up into his candy green eyes. In his ramble, Dean had chosen to lounge on his sofa before him, placing his elbows on the edge of the sofa head acting nonchalant, letting Castiel think things through.

But...it was  _ Dean Winchester _ ...

“Will you go with me?” Castiel tried, nerves evident as he spoke. He needed to say thing right, otherwise Dean might not do it, he might not go with him. And if he didn’t then Castiel would be walking alone up the aisles, Sam would be angry at him. He might not want to be friend’s anymore. Sam might  _ fire _ him! Oh god…Oh god. “Do you want to—will you come with—will you—”

“Cas, angel,” Dean leaned forward, not breaking his gaze from Castiel’s. “Take a deep breath.”

Castiel sucked in a long breath and let it out. Well…what do you know? That actually helped.

Castiel placed the note onto the table and turned it so he could see. Dean peered forward cautiously, and skimmed over the golden writing of the card.

“Will you walk down the aisle with me?”

Okay...double take.

Dean didn’t know what to do as he saw Castiel lean over the table to him. His gaze locked onto his delicious skin, and that collarbone, just begging to be licked and bitten.

Castiel was teasing him, and he didn’t even know it…

Dean’s gaze instead rested on the clearly written note below. Castiel needed a bridesmaid?

“What are you asking me?” Dean asked, not really seeing the correlation. Did Castiel want Dean to introduce him to a woman?

That didn’t sit right with Dean at all.

“You—you’re the best man.” Castiel said, his stutter evident as he tried to force out his words. “Gabriel doesn’t have a matron of honour. Can I? Will you—Do you think—”

“Breathe, angel.”

What harm could it do? Dean was already part of the wedding. And Castiel was right, Gabriel didn’t have a matron of honour. Castiel would easily fit into that role. And he’d be able to spend the entire day with Castiel, in a celebratory gathering where he could show Castiel how much he meant to him.

How could he say no?


	18. Chapter 18

Dean and Castiel smiled as they walked down the aisle, taking slow steps against the music.

“ _ God, _ he looks so scared.” Dean chuckled, staring at Sam standing under the lavish alter.

Castiel smiled brightly when Dean leaned in closer to him. “One day you’ll know what that feels like.”

“Nah,” Dean nudged him. “I’ll be ecstatic to see my beautiful bride,”

Sam paled when Dean and Castiel parted once they reached the end of the aisle.

This was it.

There were a few moments of silence before Gabriel and his father appeared at the back. Gabriel smiled nervously as everyone turned around when the wedding march struck up.

To Sam and Gabriel that walk lasted forever.

Castiel watched with slight tears in his eyes as Gabriel reached Sam.

The minister, a short bald man began the ceremony, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Sam Winchester and Gabriel Milton.” From there on it was all tradition. The part that everyone was nervous about was the vows.

But everything went smoothly. When the priest asked for objections, not one person argued.

The two looked so happy when they were finally announces as married. There was a loud thunder of applause and cheering throughout the hall. Sam and Gabriel kissed and ran up the aisle leaving Castiel and Dean wondering why they were in such in a hurry.

“I love you.” Sam said as they were at the end of the aisle taking congratulations from many guest. Gabriel smiled and leaned into his chest knowing that this was the beginning of many more happy memories.

~~

Castiel let out a long sigh as he sat by himself on one of the many decorated round tables. He smiled watching Sam and Gabriel dance, once again, to a classic song.

He had known them ever since they were young and was so happy, and so very grateful that the two had finally gotten married. It was such a beautiful wedding and they both looked perfect together.

But he had other things to worry about right now. Gabriel had asked him a few weeks ago to say a speech in front of everyone. He said he wanted Castiel to do it because he knew them for so long. Castiel had everything written down neatly on cue cards.

He smiled as he reached into his pocket.

All he needed to do was…find…them.  _ Oh fuck _ . Where were they?

“Would you like to dance?” Castiel turned to look at a tall handsome man standing before him, his dark brown hair was blown back from his face, his deep blue eyes glistening as he smiled, holding his hand out to Castiel.

“I don’t really dance,” Castiel said, politely declining. This wasn’t the right time, he couldn’t find his cue cards god damn it!

The man didn’t notice his protest, either that or he didn’t care. “Let me teach you,”

Castiel let out a breath. Did he not understand?

Dean appeared behind the man, tapping him on the shoulder. “It appears my fiancé said no,”

“Fiancé?” The man asked. He stepped back, walking away. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

Dean rolled his eyes, watching the man walk away. Turning, he smiled brightly and held his arm out to his supposed 'fiancé’. The music flourished around them and Castiel let out an inward moan. Dean was looking so damned gorgeous in the black suit and deep red tie.

Damn. Suits were his Achilles heel, and red was his favourite colour. Castiel took a quick sip of his water, trying to calm the heat rising in him.

Dean chuckled, seeing Castiel’s inner turmoil. He held his hand out to the man. “May I have this dance, Cas?”

“You’re no different than he was.” Castiel rolled his eyes, darting his gaze away. “I don’t know how to dance,”

“I don’t believe that,” He stated simply, taking a tight grip of Castiel’s hand and pulling him up to a stand. Castiel stumbled onto his chest. Dean shook his head and helped Castiel to his feet, taking his out to the large vacant balcony.

The warm sun washed over Castiel’s skin, he took in a deep breath, the scent of wildflowers from the beautiful meadow that surrounded the hall filled his nostrils. Castiel smiled at the breath-taking view, but was suddenly brought out of his revere when Dean knelt down onto the balcony before him.

“What on earth are you doing?” He whispered harshly, hoping no one saw them. The guests inside were too busy watching the couples dancing to notice their escapades.

“Would you please dance with me?” He stood up gracefully, leaning into Castiel. “Did the fairy tale prince thing work?”

There was a long silence as Castiel looked up at him. He felt his face heat up at Dean’s closeness, and wondered if he was blushing. He hesitated slightly, extended his hand and laid it in Dean’s.

“Yes, it did.”

Dean’s fingers, warm and strong, closed around his hand, and Castiel was stunned at how pleasant it was. Who knew a simple thing as holding hands would feel this nice. His other hand moved onto Dean’s shoulder, and in turn, he felt Dean’s hand coming to rest on his waist.

“I do want to,” He muttered, glancing back at the swirls of colours in the large ballroom as the other couples danced. “But I don’t know how—”

Dean smirked mischievously, and lifted Castiel’s up with ease. Castiel’s feet stepped onto his black leather dress shoes. Dean swayed back and forth, lifting his feet up slightly and moving in a slow circle on the large balcony. “Look, you’re dancing,”

Castiel gripped tighter at the lapels of his suit. Dean shook his head and placed Castiel’s arms around his shoulders, pulling the smaller man closer to him. Chest to chest, Castiel could feel Dean’s steady heartbeat.

It was unfair, he only wished that Dean couldn't feel his own heart beat increasing with the warm heat Dean radiated into his body, the sweet breath he fanned over his face, the bright and encouraging smile he gave Castiel, every slight movement of his fingers that caressed Castiel absent-mindedly on his waist and shoulders.

Ohhh...this was not good. He already knew he was falling for Dean. But Dean was making it awfully hard not to think of him as…well, as his alpha.

Unobserved by anyone, their bodies moved slowly in time with the rhythmic, sweet tune of the music permeating through the slightly opened balcony door. Castiel forgot where he was, and gave himself over to the strange pleasure and happiness he felt in Dean’s arms. With a sigh, he leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder, and felt his strong arm encircling tighter around his waist, Dean’s lips against his temple.

The song drew to an end. The two pulled apart, regarding each other in silence. With a slight bow, Dean took several steps towards the door even as the next song begun. He felt, rather than saw, Dean’s genuine smile, and his arm moving around Castiel’s waist again. Castiel himself felt his lips moving upwards in a smile, forgetting everything but themselves. Dean’s arms were warm and comforting, and Castiel found himself wishing the night would never come to an end.

Again the song drew to an end too soon.

Dean pulled Castiel closer, whispering, “That wasn’t so scary now was it?”

“With you. Alone. Yes. Indeed.” He replied with a cheeky grin. Looking up, his eyes widened. Dean’s lips were dangerously close to his face. Had it been any other time, he’d have pulled away at once. But not this time. This time, he pressed closer to Dean, eagerly seeking his warmth as Dean’s lips found his skin and caressed his lips ever so lightly, like a shy lover. His arms were still around Castiel, his hands feeling his back, his waist, his neck, his hair.

It was completely perfect.

~~

It was bad. Very, very bad.

Castiel wanted to scream and claw at his fingers and fold in on himself so tightly so he could disappear completely. His hands moved so fast that they almost blurred when he sorted out his cue cards over and over again, a rapid rhythm that he kept up for so long his hands started to cramp. Still, he didn’t stop.

He had parted from Dean when they heard the DJ announce the last dance between the grooms. After that, he needed to say his speech.

They were waiting for him, they wanted to hear his speech. And yet he was here in the bridal room, preparing himself. His speech was supposed to be perfect, it was supposed to show whimsy, incite fond memories and bring tears to their eyes.

He made a mistake, once, he had left his cards in the bridal room and someone… someone … _ someone _ had messed them all up! In his panic to fix the mistake, he accidentally scattered everything. The cards were no longer in perfect arrangement but instead in a mess all over the floor.

_ Pick them up, pick them up, pick them up! _

 

He scrambled to pick them all up, but panic was quickly taking over him made it almost impossible. Tears blinded him and his breath came out so fast his heart couldn’t keep up.

They were waiting for him, he needed to pick them up, he needed to get out there. He needed to fix this! Fix this!  _ Fix this! _

The hot flashes and the numbness in his hands were a dead giveaway. Castiel hadn’t had a panic attack this bad in years. But he could feel it coming over him now. He didn’t do anything to try and stop it. The terror that wracked through his body rendered him immobile, unable to even cry out for help.

_ Dean…alpha…please! Dean… _

The pounding of his heart was getting louder and louder until it was all he could hear, and the shortness of breath he felt only ramped up the fear he felt.

Castiel didn’t know he had started screaming, but he did notice Dean suddenly by his side, Dean’s arms wrapped right around his body, holding him. He pushed his head into Dean’s chest, hiding his gaze from the mess on the ground.

Castiel could hear the sound of heels thudding on the tile floor, followed by the sound of paper being rustled. Someone was picking up his cards. The faint familiar scent of lavender told him it was Sam.

He heard Dean whispering to him, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re alright, I’m here. You’ll be fine.”

Castiel didn’t consciously feel Dean lift his up from the ground, but he knew Dean was taking his somewhere safe.

They reached his home quicker than he remembered. But as soon as Dean placed him down onto the familiar wooden floorboards of his living room, Castiel stiffened.

No. No.  _ No! _

He was experiencing his drop. He needed to get away. He needed to get far, far,  _ far _ away.

His room. The room Dean had said was his as soon as he had stepped foot into his home.

Dean’s office hadn’t been intimate enough for them at the very start of the therapy sessions. They had quickly moved to his home office, where Castiel spent the majority of his time. But Dean had quickly told him that if he were ever in need of a place where he could go and have everything exactly the way he wanted it. Castiel could choose any room in his house.

His room.

His room in Dean’s home.

Castiel turned on his heels and reached into his pocket, the weight of the small silver key Dean had given him, was calming. He stood in front of the door at the far end of the corridor.

Dean followed behind him.

“No,  _ No!  _ Dean, just don’t!”

Castiel’s fingers shook so badly that it took a few tries to open the door, but he managed it. He locked the door behind him, hearing the satisfied click. He knew Dean was standing on the other side of the door, knew his eyes would be filled with worry, his mouth set in a thin line.

And he knew Dean wouldn’t try to follow him.

It was very bad.

There were days where Castiel seriously contemplated skinning himself, if only to get rid the itch he felt on every square inch of him. There were the days where he couldn’t stand even breathing in the same room as someone else, much less be held and comforted, much to Dean’s frustration.

He was experiencing a very bad drop.

This room. This room was his room. His special room. He had scoped it out, locked the door and told Dean that he was not to step foot in this room.

Dean understood, of course he understood. And he complied, only Castiel was allowed to open the door, only he was able to get into the room. The only reason Dean had an extra key was in case something extreme happened.

This was his room, the one he kept shut off most days because he couldn’t risk letting it get contaminated by anything. This was a room he went to escape.

He was not supposed to, but he took another anxiety pill, swallowing it dry. The one he had taken that morning clearly wasn’t working that well. He just hoped this didn’t mean another visit to the physician to get his prescription changed. The testing period always made him feel absolutely awful.

For the rest of the day, Castiel checked that the door was locked. He sorted out three decks of cards to distract himself, making the pattern more difficult each time. He hid in a corner for longer than he’d ever admit to.

His thoughts ran. And as always, they ran to his anchor, his first kiss, his…just  _ his _ .

If he was Dean’s, then Dean was his. That was what all those books said when something like this happened.

But, Castiel had never experienced love before. It was always so hard to concentrate on the other person’s advances when he couldn’t stop thinking about their bodily fluids. And whenever he mentioned it, it usually killed the mood, dead.

Not that he had ever felt sexual feelings for anyone.

But being in love with Dean was easy. Almost effortless. It was less about the saliva exchange and more about how soft his lips were, and how Dean had let out little breathy gasps whenever he got closer. Being in love with Dean was more than getting squeamish about him touching Castiel and more about how strong, yet gentle, his arms were when he held him close, and the way Castiel would get sort of – okay, a lot! – vocal when he was lost in the haze of lust that was Dean Winchester.

And Castiel would never get tired of the way Dean would clean them up afterwards, without a thought. He’d be so gentle, so trusting that Castiel would fall asleep right then and there, still sweaty and rumpled as Dean would run a wash cloth over him. He wouldn’t say a thing. Castiel wouldn’t squirm or move…nothing.

For his part, Dean definitely didn’t mind the nine kisses goodnight he got because Castiel said the one before it wasn’t right. Or so he claimed.

Damn it.

He needed Dean.

But Dean hadn’t disturbed him at all. Castiel knew it broke his heart, not being able to help when he was like this. But Castiel knew there was nothing he could do until his drop lifted. Would Dean make it better? Or worse?

Not wanting to challenge that thought. He instead chose to pay closer attention to the pile where all the even-numbered red cards went. Red…like the tie Dean was wearing today.

Dean. Dean. Dean.  _ Dean. _

Fuck, he needed Dean.

Castiel felt absolutely exhausted, but the need to wash himself was immediate. He needed to get out of here. He was ready for it. He had it all under control.

When he finally opened the door, he saw Dean slouched over on the ground, his back against a wall. Dean was asleep. Castiel bit his lip hard, trying to stop it quivering, and bent down to see if he could move Dean to the bedroom without waking him up.

It didn’t work, Dean’s forest green gaze groggily looked up at him and a relieved smile rose to his face. Castiel didn’t care that neither of them had taken a shower, he didn’t care about anything except for the comfortable warmth he got when Dean pressed their lips together.

“I love you,” Dean murmured to Castiel, holding him close as he kissed him again.

Castiel gasped, curling his fingers into the lapels of Dean’s shirt. “I…you…” he stuttered. “Love you, love you,  _ love you _ !” 

Dean chuckled, brushing his lips over Castiel’s as he held his angel closer.


	19. Chapter 19

This wasn’t going to end well. He was certain about that.

Dean knew that much as he stared into the steely dark gaze of the retired army major sitting on a dark leather chair before him. The soft whirring of the desktop computer sitting behind the two of them was the only solace against the deathly silence.

Talking with Castiel’s family was a turn of events Dean knew was expecting. After all, therapy needed to be induced everywhere. That was something he was sure of ever since he had first seen and spoken to Castiel.

But he hadn’t expected the scare tactic.

Yet he sat still in front of the man, giving him the respect he deserved.

He knew that in Castiel family, the father was the king in the home; whatever this man said was what was going to happen. It was absolute. Castiel’s family upbringing also said that the women and young were the most precious to the men of the household. Something Dean understood and respected dearly.

And since Castiel was the youngest in the direct family, the strictness put upon him to honour and respect his family and their wishes was doubled.

If Dean wanted anything to happen between him and Castiel, he had to appease to this man.

That was easier said than done.

...damn. How are you going to get yourself out of this one Winchester?

The glare on the father’s features only intensified as Castiel’s mother walked into the room, second in rank to the family hierarchy. She sat silently next to her husband, her face completely void of any emotion.

Dean gulped in a breath.

“Explain yourself.”

It wasn’t much of a command, and it didn’t really make any sense to Dean, but he couldn’t help but straighten his back.

“Dean Winchester, thirty, psychoanalyst and psychiatrist.”

He saw the father’s eyebrows quirk up in interest, but he didn’t let himself relax. If this man wanted his past, he was surely going to get the best and whole of it. Dean thanked his lucky stars that he had excelled at grasping every opportunity that presented itself to him.

They didn’t seem to mind that he was a man, so at least he didn’t have to worry about homophobic parents.

But, this also made him all that more fearful. What if he wasn’t good enough?

“Your job at the moment,” The father’s eyes narrowed. Dean knew what the man meant. The need for a steady income was relevant, especially if he ever wanted to stay with Castiel, help him out properly. Castiel needed Dean, as much as Dean needed Castiel.

The thought of having Castiel with him all the time made Dean smile.

“I receive much higher an amount than an average psychiatrist, as I work with celebrities and major companies. I am also a professor of psychiatry at my local university.” Dean answered, highly grateful that he had climbed so high up the career ladder.

He saw the pleased smile that rose on both the parents faces. Of course they would want their son to have a life full of luxury, where work wasn’t a high necessity.

But it seemed just that wasn’t enough...

“You know of Castiel’s problems, and his need for constant care,” The father stated, crossing his arms over his chest, the glare – although not as vicious – still set on his face. “What if – God forbid – you were to lose your job because of him?”

Dean tilted his head to one side, slightly confused as he answered with a slight precision. “Although I will allow your son to do as he pleases, and if he wants to continue working, then I will support him. If – God forbid – something were to happen to my career, then I have been saving up ever since college and have created a rather hefty amount through the years. Most of which goes to my family with or without them needing it.”

The mother smiled, slightly relaxing Dean’s taut state.

They aren’t ridiculing you. They aren’t trying to get rid of you. You are an honest and trusting person. Think of who you are doing this for.

He’s worth it…

Dean took in a deep breath as he continued. “I want what is best for your son. I want to give him the happiness that he truly deserves. I want to be able to be in his life and make sure that he stays happy and prosperous. I promise you that.”

Dean knew what he had said was right – and it was only fuelled by the relaxed and happy looks upon both parents.

He thought it was the right thing to do. But was this enough to sway the man?

“Your family,” A question that was surprising, but he guessed it was required. He was going to know the innermost workings of their family, it was only fair they knew his.

Dean answered with ease. “My mother and father, a younger brother and his husband,”

“Your married brother, does he live with you and the family?”

Dean shook his head. “They live close by; my brother and his spouse have a child and wanted to raise the family in their own home.”

The mother leaned into the question. “Your accent, where are you from?”

“I am from Kansas,” He muttered, hoping his accent wasn’t too endearing to the accent of the two before him. “My family live in Lebanon, Kansas,”

“Will you be going back to them?” The mother asked again.

Dean smiled, nodding vigorously. She wanted to know whether he would let Castiel visit them. What an amazingly new ideology this culture had.

“You will take care of Castiel, and make sure that he is happy. We give you our blessings to marry our son.” The father said, resting his hands to his sides, a spark of happiness in his eyes.

Wait…wait…what?

_ Marry? _

He didn’t get a chance to correct them. Castiel’s father clapped his hand on Dean’s shoulder, ushering him closer. “You are much more than I expected, Dean Winchester.”

Dean chuckled lightly, forcing a smile, what the fuck was he going to do? “I apologise for not being the young delinquent you expected me to be,”

Both parents laughed heartily.

“Welcome to the family.” Dean shook the father’s hand as he clapped him fatherly on the back.

It was then that the nervous professor walked in to the room, a tray filled with tea utensils in his tight grasp. He darted his gaze from his parents to Dean.

Oh…well. Now this sight made thoughts scurry in his mind. Castiel, waiting for him at their home when he came back from work, offering him a cup of tea, taking off his coat and tie and pulling him into the living room and laying him on the sofa’s, straddling over his lap and… _ whoa!  _ What the hell was he thinking?

Dean smiled. He knew he felt something for the man. He had ever since he first saved Castiel from falling down the stairs. But…marry him?

Castiel placed the tray onto the table between them and started to prepare tea.

“We will want to meet your parents.” The father continued, taking the cup from Castiel’s outstretched hand. “We must also settle on a date.”

Castiel paused. Wait…what?

“Will it be a traditional or contemporary wedding? I hear gay men can do anything now,” The mother asked, taking her tea and sipping it.

“Wh-what?” Castiel’s eyes widened as he stared questioningly at Dean. He was only supposed to asked permission on dating! Not marriage!

Dean smiled, teasingly, yet hopefully at Castiel, as he took the cup from the man’s nervous grasp.

“Why not both?” Dean asked, a genuine smile tracing across his lips. He turned his attention to the parents. “I don’t know what Cas wants, but my parents are traditionalists.”

“Understood,” The father stated commandingly. “We will have to talk to them as soon as possible.”

Castiel held the empty tray to his chest, his grip tightening on the handles as he looked at the scene played before him.

How the hell had this happened?

~~

“Dean Winchester!” Castiel all but shrieked as he tightened his grip around the wheel of his car. They were driving to the city centre, as offered by Castiel’s mother, as Dean hadn’t seen the wonders of the city.

“I couldn’t help it, he was expecting more than a boyfriend.” Dean shrugged, leaning back against the comfy leather of the seat. “I can’t deny what your parents want. After all, you said for me to be civil with them.”

“That wasn’t civil!” Castiel declared, turning the car harshly to the right. Dean held onto the door, smirking. “That was an invitation of war!”

“What makes you say that?”

Castiel pressed on the brakes at the traffic lights and slammed his head onto the curve of the wheel when the car stopped. “You have no idea what will happen, do you?”

Dean was frightened now. “What do you mean?”

“Traditional, military parents, remember?” Castiel muttered, his voice muffled by the roar of his engine as he started off once again. “They won’t let us get a say in anything. And you’ve agreed to both traditional and contemporary wedding? What does that even mean?”

“I thought it was an added bonus.” Dean stated, running his fingers over Castiel’s thigh as the man tried to find a parking space. “Two wedding nights,”

“ _ Pervert _ , that’s what you are,” Castiel grimaced as he pulled into a parking space. He roughly pulled off his seatbelt and got out of the car. Dean quickly countered and rushed around the car. He leaned into Castiel as the man closed the door, locking it. Pushed against the door of his car, Castiel shivered as Dean whispered lightly in his ear. “You aren’t complaining,  _ omega _ ,”

Castiel sucked in a breath. Damn the way Dean said the word, all husky and deep, showing dominance and ownership. It turned Castiel on so badly.

“Unfair.”

Dean stood back and pulled Castiel to his side, linking their fingers together as Castiel led them towards the café he used to go to when he was younger.

The acute and familiar scent of coffee and baking permeated the small café they entered. One of the waitresses quickly came to their side and seemed to know Castiel.

After a few moments of delightful banter between the two women, the two settled into one of the more secluded areas of the café, on a balcony above the normal seating, private and hopefully where no crazy fan would try to interrupt them.

Although the waitress wasn’t helping.

Castiel was possessive. ‘So sue me.’

“What’s the matter?” Dean asked when they finally ordered.

“Marriage...” He let out a deep breath. “I never thought I’d be getting married. I was fully against it.”

Dean ran his fingers lightly over the back of Castiel’s hand, comforting himself more as he asked the relationship changing question. “Are you not happy with me?”

Castiel’s eyes shot up to him. “You, Dean Winchester, are a fantasy.”

“I feel pretty real.” He held onto Castiel’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

Castiel let a small smile through. “You know what I mean. You know everything about me, you’ve  _ seen  _ everything. You are an exception.”

“Look,” Dean tried to calm his frantic thoughts. “Your father and I seemed to be on the same track, and your mother already thinks we’re together.”

“But Dean…”

“I know this is all too sudden. But it might turn out to be something wonderful.” His grip tightened on Castiel’s hand.

Castiel nodded, rather hesitantly, but his eyes were still downcast. “But you haven’t even—”

“I’m not saying we will get married,” Dean said, holding a hand to stop him. “But, think of this as a promise. I promise to continue to help you, give you the love you need, and your parents will be happy, and off your back.”

Castiel chuckled. “That’s a crap proposal,”

“I’ll propose to you properly later,” Dean stated, green eyes gazing steely at him.

Castiel gulped, Dean was going to propose to him one day!


	20. Chapter 20

“You know, you made me worry about meeting your parents,” Dean said, leaning back onto the plush of the cars seat as he gazed to the streets outside. “I’ve gotten a great insight to your psychosis.”

“Please, that was not the only thing you were focusing on.” Castiel muttered, turning into his parents’ street. “You got us engaged.”

He parked just outside the house and paused. Holy… _ fuck _ . Three cars were already parked outside the large home. He pulled the handbrake up and laid his head on the wheel.

His parents had called him a few minutes ago, and they did not sound happy. Castiel was worried, what had they done in such a short space of time that had made his parents change their minds from being happy to being angry?

Dean had already met the family, what else did he expect?

“What’s the matter?” Dean asked, laying his large hand on Castiel’s back, rubbing soothingly over his shirt.

Castiel peered up at the house and sighed. “Family, that’s what,”

Dean mouthed a slight ‘oh’ as Castiel took off his seatbelt and opened the door. He peered at Dean from above the car, his grip on the wheel tightened. Dean patted him lightly on his thigh, urging Castiel to get out of the car.

Oh, he had a bad feeling in his stomach. A tingling like something was going to happen. He just didn't know if it was something good or something bad. The two had to confront whatever it was that his parents had planned. The two forced themselves out of the car and made their way to the house. Ringing the doorbell, Castiel waited patiently for someone to open the door.

“Will you stop worrying?” Dean whispered harshly to him. “You’re making me nervous.”

Castiel shook herself out of his slump and held his head high. He'd just have to take whatever they had to give him. Good or bad.

A tall dark haired man opened the door, a small child at his hip. “You’re back early. We weren’t expecting you 'til later.”

“Hey Michael, mother called us back.” Castiel said with a silent sigh, he smiled at the young infant. “Hello Alec! You’ve grown so big!”

“Hi, my name is Dean,” He introduced, walking into the house. He held his hand out to the man, who took it.

“Michael, it’s nice to meet you.” The brother replied, closing the door behind them. He nodded to Castiel, taking the name to memory as he followed his fiancé into the living room.

Dean’s eyes widened.

It seemed the entire family must have heard of Castiel and his arrival, they all were sitting spaced out around the lower levels of the house, the women congregated in the living room while the males sat in the living area at the back of the large open plan room, the younger children were playing in the conservatory at the very back of the house.

He was introduced to each of Castiel’s brothers and sisters, Castiel’s father nodded to him, motioning for Dean to sit with them. Dean took a look at Castiel, seeing him nod at him, and Dean took in a steely breath.

He could do this.

Castiel sucked in a breath when he saw his father sitting on the sofas, his arms crossed over his chest and the house phone on the coffee table in front of him.

Holy crap! Why were they unhappy? Was it because he was a boy? Was it because he was older? But Michael was married to a man, younger than him.

_ Why were they unhappy _ ?

“Winchester,” Castiel's father stared down at the man.

Dean's back straightened as he ventured into the house. “Y-yes?”

Castiel’s eyes widened, oh god!

“Your parents called,” He held onto the stare, intimidating the doctor. Dean stood in the middle of the living room, not letting the man waver him. “Have you not told them about Castiel?”

Castiel paused. Wait...what?

He let out a relieved breath. So that was it.

“Ah...uh...yes,” Dean nervously scratched the back of his head. “About that,”

“Although I am glad that you thought to come here first,” Castiel’s father stated, letting his arms fall from his chest. Dean took that as a sign to relax from his straight stature. “But, your parents want you two to go see them as soon as possible,”

Dean’s eyes widened. Crap, he had to mention this to his parents.

Stupid Dean, he usually didn't make any life changing decisions without talking it through with his family. His gaze rolled to his “fiancé” at the living room doorway, eyes closed in relief.

“I believe it is best for us to see them after all,” Dean said with a relief filled sigh. At least Castiel's parents were happy with him. He'd just have to find a way to get around his parents.

Easier said than done.

~~

Castiel let out a loud sigh as he rushed back into his old bedroom, smiling as he pushed open his door. Everything was exactly how he had left it. His parents knew how to deal with him, and they knew he’d need a long while to get back in touch with his room, with his old life.

Firm hands grabbed him from behind. Castiel tried to scream but whoever was behind him covered his mouth. Castiel’s wrists were trapped against his sides and a hard muscular body pinned his face first against the bedroom door.

Castiel’s mind whirled. Who was this? Everyone was outside, weren’t they? What did this man want?

Shouts rose and fell in his chest, spent against the fingers pressed onto his lips. His heart hammered against his chest, cutting his breath into shocked fragments.

“I’m not going to hurt you, angel,” Said a surprisingly familiar voice.

Castiel eyes widened.  _ Dean. _

“That’s it.” Dean’s breath was hot against his ear as Castiel battled to free himself. “Fight me,”

Damn, Dean was strong, his grip tightened to iron.

“You assbutt!” Castiel yelled into his fingers, his voice muffled.

“Sorry angel. Just couldn’t help myself,” Then he bit Castiel’s ear softly, just enough to send a hot rush straight through his body and make him moan.

Thoughts of killing Dean faded into fantasies of beating him up maybe a little and then having the two of them move over to the bed.

But they shouldn’t. They were at his parent’s house.

As if reading his mind, Dean nibbled his ear again. “Want me to stop?”

Dean let go of his mouth and wrists long enough to spin him around. In seconds, Castiel was pinned again, this time his back against the wall, his arms over his head and Dean’s hand pressed against his mouth again. Castiel caught his delicious scent of a light spice cologne and pure man.

“You feel so good,” Castiel stared at him. Dean’s eyes were dark with desire, his bow shaped lips drove Castiel wild. The way he would whisper sweet seductions in his ear, and slowly kissed his neck, it was enough to drive him mad with desire. Dean’s body felt fit and fine toned as it pressed against his in a shameful way.

Dean grabbed his hips, pressing Castiel’s growing cock against his and grinding against him, making Castiel gasp and moan loudly. Dean raked his fingers through Castiel’s hair and angled his head. Castiel moaned.

Dean growled before lunging, catching Castiel off guard as he whipped the smaller man about in a flurry of limbs until Castiel lay beneath him on the bed, one of Dean’s hand grasping his wrists above his head pressed tightly to the soft pillows. A strong musk pervaded Castiel’s senses, pine and earth with a purely masculine odour.

He was trapped against Dean’s warm, delicious weight pressed against every inch of him. Taking in a ragged breath from his uncovered nose, Castiel’s eyes darted to the alarm clock sitting on the table of his bed, if he could reach it, then he could hit Dean over the head with it, push him off his so he could get some semblance back into his life.

Not that he wanted to do that. But at least he had a way out.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” His voice was so alluring. Castiel couldn’t do anything other than stare at him. Dean gave him a predatory look that made him shiver. Dean peeled his large hand from Castiel’s mouth. Castiel took in a deep gulp of precious air.

“What are you—?”

“Quiet!” Dean’s voice was low, but harsh, making Castiel obey. “Damn it, you just had to bite your pretty pink lips didn’t you?”

“I…did?” Castiel tried slowly, not wanting to anger the predator above him. Why was Dean doing this to him?  _ What  _ was he doing to him?

Dean held one of Castiel’s fingers to his mouth and sucked at his index finger. His tongue ran along Castiel’s finger tasting him, and then across his teeth.  God, Dean wanted him. So much…. His entire body ached for the man. His hand ran along Castiel’s neck, tenderizing the skin. At the sight of this made him groan his eyes flashed dark with desire and he fought valiantly against the chains that held him back, yearning, aching, wanting oh-so-badly to taste Cas…

“Oh, Cas,” he purred, feeling Castiel shudder at the sound. Getting a hold of himself, he ran his free hand down Castiel’s shirt clad side. He felt Castiel’s body shudder and he strained to not lunge at his soft flesh, to sink his teeth deeply into Castiel’s neck.

_ No marks in front of his parents. _

Dean could hear Castiel’s heartbeat pounding as his hands glided down the man’s thighs; rising up to his sides once again, taking the shirt with him, unbuttoning the buttons as he feathered his fingers over Castiel’s skin.

Several shivers ran down Castiel’s spine and Dean began to feel slightly aroused at his mewled moans. He leaned down, blowing lightly into Castiel’s ear. He could see quite well even in the dim light, and he know that Castiel, while not the skinniest, was very attractive, fuelling his growing lust. Castiel felt something twist in his abdomen while his heart did a strange tumble at the scent. Blushing at how Dean was straddling his waist he licked his lips nervously, looking anywhere but up to Dean’s face.

“Look at me.”

The voice was deeper, rougher with a strange grating to it that made Castiel coil up in fear.

He gulped and looked up, his breath rushing out of his in a soft ‘ _ whoosh’ _ as he was caught by Dean’s bright eyes.

“I really can’t wait anymore,”

A voice inside Castiel shouted in joy before he quickly stifled it, looking at Dean closely as he stared down at him with an unreadable expression. Something tore at his insides, making his throat clench. Castiel gulped as Dean bent over, their nose touching as he gave a noisy sniff, deeply inhaling Castiel’s smell.

“Don’t you dare refuse me,” Dean paused and he moved his head slightly to allow the light to hit his face slightly. Castiel froze as the reality of what Dean was doing now struck him like a brick wall.

Dean was acting like an alpha.

With lips forming a dark smirk Dean gave Castiel outer earlobe a lick, his teeth scratching Castiel’s skin ever so gently.

Thoughts came to a screeching halt, Castiel felt his motor skills go out of the window as he shivered uncontrollably; his stomach suddenly gave a strange little lurch.

Dean’s large hands rubbed themselves against the fabric of Castiel’s shirt. His breath was hot, next to Castiel’s ear, yet he was so gentle.

Dean moved towards his mouth, delicately at first, as though if he were to press to hard Castiel would break. Then Dean’s mouth slanted on his lips fiercely. Oh, who knew someone could use a tongue like  _ that _ ?

Wet and hot. Dean relished Castiel’s shock, taking advantage of his pliant lips and tongue, prying his way viciously into Castiel’s mouth and sucking on his tongue, his breath coming out in pants. Dean growled deep in his chest Castiel felt it in his bones and he gasped, shivering. Dean used the gasp, tilting his head slightly and with that tiny movement his tongue began egging Castiel’s own to move, to respond.

Numbly Castiel felt himself respond slowly, his body tightened as he touched Dean’s tongue. Dean grinned against his mouth, pulling back slightly.

“Mine.” It wasn’t a question, more like a demand. Castiel felt slightly justified that he wasn’t the only one breathing a bit heavier but he knew he was bright red.

He had never felt so hot before, it was similar to a fever but without the feeling of a headache or sore throat. Without even realizing his neck craned slightly, allowing Dean’s tongue to sear even more deeply into his mouth. Everything seemed hazy, nothing felt real.

Dean’s hot fingers touched the graceful arch of Castiel’s silk-covered sides, running down along the slope to his waist. He wondered how Dean’s touch could leave him so incredibly overheated.

Castiel felt Dean’s erection against his stomach, grinding deliciously into Castiel’s own. But he didn’t have the chance to look down to see what the man was doing. Castiel’s mouth was grasping at unknown and unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, but Dean teeth tugged at his bottom lip, stealing them from his mouth.

Castiel tried to look at him, to see him. But when he saw his dark, intense eyes watching him; fiercely glaring at his every expression as he kissed his way down Castiel’s stomach, Castiel had to look away for fear of what his own vulnerable eyes might reveal.

Dean dug his teeth into Castiel’s hip bone, making Castiel’s mind reel with new and sweet tingling shivers sent straight to his nerves.

“You’re mine.” He muttered to Castiel again, licking at the marks he had made on the man’s skin. His dark green eyes fluttered open to lock with Castiel’s. “And I want everyone to know.”

“Oh alpha—” Castiel gasped when Dean’s teeth grazed his over-sensitive skin.

Castiel’s body grew more and more heated under his gaze, ever the more yielding. Dean’s weight sinking down on his was marvellous and exotic. Something new and frightening, but luring and exciting.

“We can’t do this, but god I don’t want to stop…” He was amazed at the response Castiel gave him. “My family is outside!” He gasped, unable to find his voice as Dean’s fingers traced random patterns on his arm. His words seemed to please Dean immensely.

Castiel’s innocence. Untouched and free of corruption. Untainted. Dean wanted to stain Castiel forever with his very essence.

Castiel heard him growl. The sound sent a chill down his spine and, as if Dean had been waiting for the right moment; he slowly lowered his head to the crook of Castiel’s neck. Nuzzling and kissing and teasing with his hot lips, drawling out the moment of tight, tense fear for Castiel.

Something changed in his mood then, so quickly it frightened him. Dean smirked, his eyes turning mischievous and dangerous. Castiel was paralysed beneath him, feeling like he was lying in the arms of a predator. His heart hammered in his chest, excited.

“Everyone is in the next room,” Dean murmured into his ear. He dipped his head down and his lips grazed against Castiel’s neck. “Don’t scream.”

Castiel’s mouth fell open when Dean’s teeth nipped him ever so carefully. His neck was always extra sensitive. That one touch felt like Dean had shot a bolt of electricity through his whole body. He tried so hard to bite back a scream, but he couldn’t help but moan Dean’s name out loud.

Dean lifted his head and caught Castiel’s open mouth in a kiss so impossibly slow, Castiel thought he would unravel beneath him. Dean’s lips were so soft and persuasive against his and he made sure he had captured Castiel’s full attention before his hands began to wander.

His fingers slowly drifted down the length of Castiel – his hot fingertips flitting down Castiel’s neck, across his collarbone, then lifting away from his body before he got to his nipples. Running over them, his hands found Castiel’s again at his ribcage, fingers slipping along the cloth down his waist, hips and thighs. A trail of goose bumps erupted in his wake, burning almost painfully wherever Dean touched him. Dean slipped his fingers into the waistband of Castiel’s and slid the length of it down, exposing Castiel’s thighs fully to the night air.

They had a rule…no penetrative sex. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t play.

Dean broke the kiss then, smiling wickedly before he slid his body along the length of Castiel’s. He pressed his hard cock against Castiel’s aching cock, running his lips over his collarbone as Castiel gasped. Dean’s mouth traced over one of Castiel’s nipples, curving his tongue around it, still inhaling and exhaling rhythmically. Castiel’s nipples instantly turned hard and sensitive before Dean’s lips ever touched them. Dean kissed one of the hard points and Castiel was lost.

“Dean!” Castiel grasped his wide shoulders.

Dean smirked at him and then dipped down, their lips fusing together in a harder kiss. He pushed Castiel back onto his bed, shucking up Castiel’s shirt. His hands played with waistband of his underwear, gently massaging his skin, but not touching his cock, causing Castiel to gasp at being touched like that.

He blushed.

Groaning at the sounds that were already escaping Castiel’s mouth, Dean wondered how this man had stayed single for so long. He growled lightly. But if anyone dare try that now, they'd have to be very careful of where they tread.

Castiel was  _ his  _ and no one else's.

Biting at his lip to stop from moaning even louder, Castiel shivered and turned a dark red.

Dean leant down and applied soft kisses to his pale skin, stopping to tug on Castiel's ear with his teeth and whisper, “Beautiful,” forcing his tongue through Castiel’s slightly parted lips. He ran a hand down the length of the smaller man’s body, circling around his hips and sides, enjoying the way Castiel shivered under him.

A moment later, there was the slight rustling of cloth and Castiel’s fingers trailed down his taught chest. Castiel glanced down, only to blush again when he saw Dean's thick cock standing to attention behind the stretch of his jeans. Castiel’s breathing quickened.

He was slightly worried though that it wouldn't fit. Honestly, how could something so…  _ big  _ fit inside something so  _ small _ ?

Dean's lips moved away from Castiel’s only to start dragging them across his skin, stopping to bite at his shoulder, leaving a small bruise. Castiel glanced down at it and smiled as his stomach gave an odd flip and something told him that his skin was made for bruises left by Dean's mouth.

“Is everything alright?”

The sound from the doorway made Castiel push his hot lover from his body. He let out a loud whine at the loss of Dean’s body but shook his head. They could do this later.

“I’m fine, just…” He sucked in a ragged breath, his gaze running over Dean. The gorgeous doctors’ hair was dishevelled by his fingers, shirt pulled open at the neck, eyes wild with lust.

Oh god.  _ He  _ had done that to him!

“Mother wants you to come downstairs,” His brother said from the other end of the door. Thankfully no one ever really entered his room.

Castiel sat on his bed, his breathing returning to normal. Dean straightened out his clothes, and then helped Castiel with his own shirt and hair and together they made their way out of the room and down to his parents.


	21. Chapter 21

It had been a long day.

Castiel slumped down in the car seat, completely and utterly exhausted. He couldn't believe what had happened.

“My parents aren’t as…welcoming,” Dean had said.

He had spent the entire drive back to the city explaining to Castiel what his parents were like. Ever since Castiel’s parents had gotten in touch with his – how they had gotten his parents number, he was afraid to ask. His brother had sent a text to him, telling him to come back home as soon as possible.

He saw Castiel’s mind reel with ideas.

“How do you mean?” Castiel asked, taking mental notes.

“They are traditional,” Castiel narrowed his gaze. Dean thought his parents were traditional? Dean had just met his own. “I mean, they expect a certain  _ type _ of person,”

_ Type? _

Castiel looked away, slightly dejected. He wrung his fingers in his lap, holding back a sob. He scrunched his nose, forcing the tears back. Oh. “So, the want a normal, non-crazy  _ daughter _ in law,”

The car swerved, Castiel held onto the car door for dear life. He turned accusingly at the man driving. Dean’s eyes were narrowed, his teeth gritted. He was angry.

Fuck angry, he was furious.

“A-alpha?”

“Don’t you dare call yourself crazy,” Dean growled low, his fingers gripping the wheel, knuckles white.

“I get it,” Castiel murmured, of course that was the reason. Dean was eventually going to leave him because he was crazy, he was a silly boy who couldn’t touch anyone without freezing and needing things a certain way or he’d go into a panic attack. “I’m not good enough.”

“You're not...” Dean let out a frustrated growl and swerved the car to the side of the road and parked. His tense shoulders slopped down. His fingers tightened into fists, and he gazed heatedly at Castiel. “You think you’re not good enough?”

Dean’s fierce gaze frightened Castiel. He had never seen Dean like this. He was furious. He clamped his hand around Castiel’s wrist, fingers digging into his skin. He pulled Castiel to him then, crushing him into his chest. Castiel was suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him, blocking all coherent thoughts and logic from his mind.

“You are a troublesome man,” He said quietly, holding Castiel tightly to him. “You're irksome, naïve, loud, and damn right not cute sometimes.”

Castiel’s temper flared, he tried to push Dean away, wanting to yell at him, but he held a vice like grip around Castiel waist and shoulders, pressing Castiel’s mouth to his chest. His fingers started moving ever so slowly over the bare expanse of Castiel’s neck. The shivers from Dean’s touch made it very hard for Castiel to continue his struggle against him.

“But even with all of these flaws,” Dean’s head lowered and Castiel’s heart beat increased. Slowly, very slowly, he felt Dean’s lips brush lightly against his neck. “I fall more and more in love with you,”

Castiel held back tears as Dean pulled him impossibly closer. Love… _ Dean loved him! _

“Without you, I’m afraid I'm going to stop breathing,” Dean murmured, placing small heated kisses over Castiel’s collarbone and up his throat. “I'm afraid my heart will stop beating, I'm afraid my body will go into a catatonic state.”

“Dean…”

Castiel swallowed back his tears, tugging desperately at Dean’s back as he continued to torment his neck. Dean lifted his head the tiniest bit and lowered it ever so slowly until their lips barely brushed. Even at that small breeze of a kiss, Castiel could still taste him.

“You made me your alpha, angel.” Dean pulled away, smiling at him. “Now atone for your sins.”

“Atone?”

“Don't ever think you're not good enough.” He took hold of Castiel’s hand, gazing at him with berated breath. “Will you be my omega?”

A proposal… _ this was his proposal! _

Castiel hesitated, leaning away from him to look into his eyes. “Are you…sure?”

“Absolutely.” Dean said with a quiet sigh. He was relieved that Castiel was not thinking that he wasn't good enough. Whatever made him think something like that? He paused, clenching onto Castiel shoulders. “I love you. But, if you're hesitant about any of this, tell me now.”

Castiel sucked in a breath. He was still slightly unsure, this all seemed too good to be true – like he would suddenly be forced awake and find out that everything was a dream.

But Dean had said he loved him.  _ Loved him! _ “Dean.  _ Alpha _ , I love you, I always have and I always will.”

Dean grasped onto him, pulling Castiel close to him again. He pressed his lips against Castiel’s neck, making the smaller man shiver.

“Alpha,” Castiel paused, embarrassedly looking away. He smiled so timidly, though Dean had often thought that it had an impish quality because of the effect Castiel had on him. “Can I…I want to, lets…no. This isn’t the right way to say it.”

“What’s wrong, angel?”

Castiel paused, hesitating. He should be able to ask Dean something as simple as this; they loved each other, right? Lovers did it all the time. He sucked in a breath. “A-a kiss,”

Dean held back a smug smirk. “Your wish is my command.”

Kissing Cas, no matter how carefully, never failed to steal his breath. Even hidden by the shadows and the pale moonlight, he still could not understand this profound effect Castiel had on him.

When Castiel leaned up towards him, Dean almost consumed his mouth, so eagerly.

Yet Cas didn't know this, as Dean took him in so chastely and delicately as if he were as soft as a butterfly's wing. Dean didn't know where he had mustered this much self-control. When Castiel leaned up furthermore, or when he started to brush his fingers to Dean’s neck, he was only so overwhelmed by the sensations that tingled all over his body.

As Castiel kissed him, Dean was hyper aware of everything else. He was aware of Castiel’s warmth, so close to his chest. He was aware of the curves of his body as he was reaching up to him, and Dean bent down lower so as not to strain him. He was aware of Castiel’s hands travelling unconsciously to the collar of his shirt, then near the base of his throat. He was aware of how Castiel moved so slowly, so innocently, and how he moaned so inaudibly that even Dean could have mistaken it for a kitten mewling miles away.

Yet Dean didn't take advantage of him, even if the palm he rested on Castiel’s waist itched to dig deeper. Even if the feel of his soft skin against his fingertips burned like fire each time the wind would pass from the slightly open window, and his shirt would slightly draw higher. When Castiel pulled away, he left a heady scent that lingered on Dean’s skin. Castiel suddenly found his hands on his lap more interesting than Dean’s face.

Dean wanted to grab him, kiss him deeper, press him to his chest and imprison him in his arms. Their relationship had been so quick that he thought he owed it to Castiel to take things slow.

But they both knew Dean was Castiel’s, and Castiel was Dean’s…


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning;  
> Miscommunication and crossdressing

_"He’s a germaphobe,"_

Dean grimaced and ran his pen through the, pathetic if he thought so himself, line he had just written on his notepad. How was he supposed to explain why Cas didn't like touching people? His parents would be accommodating, but he didn't think they'd fully understand the scope of Cas's phobia, especially is _he_ tried to explain it.

Knowing the terminology was not healthy for people who didn't understand. You just looked like a jerk.

He was currently sitting on a park bench overlooking a large lake, patiently waiting for his boyfriends’ arrival. But his mind was infused with ideas, notions that were so stupid he wondered if he’d be able to pull off such a stupid scheme.

Sometimes he wondered what Castiel saw in him.

His forest green eyes gazed up at the warm summer sun, the sound of water lapping the edges of the lake, distant sounds of children laughing and screaming in joy.

“A surprise,” Castiel had said. He could still hear the man chuckling through the phone when he called Dean earlier that morning. Cas was preparing something for him, something that would make him feel better before he saw his parents. Something that would help him forget all the problems he was having.

Usually just hanging out with Cas was enough to make all his problems disappear. He didn't need anything else other than his guy, something good to eat and a nice, warm place to sit. He had two of the three, he thought, reaching for his box of chocolate flavoured pocky – something Castiel had gotten him addicted to, especially learning about the ‘pocky kiss’ – and taking a bite.

_"It’s a skin condition,"_

He rolled his eyes and scratched a line through that sentence.

How the hell was he going to pull this off?

In only a few hours his parents were going to arrive at his small, two bedroom house expecting to see him and his boyfriend. Fuck, but Dean had forgotten to say ‘ _boy’_ and now his parents thought Cas was a girl _._ He hadn’t had the chance to correct them, what with Sam’s wedding and his job. But he’d tell them now.

He and Castiel had only been together for a few weeks, was this all too quick?

Dean couldn't get out of it. He had pretty much non-stop talked about Cas with his mother ever since he had caught the man from falling down the steps in the school. And his younger brother, Sam hadn't been helpful at all. It was all Sam's fault that he was in this mess!

He and Castiel hadn't even talked about...marriage. But it seemed his brother had been fuelling their mother with stories of how they met, how they couldn't stop gravitating towards one another.

Sam was right though. He had been so hooked on Castiel since the beginning, it was impossible for him to tear his gaze from the man. His little angel.

Dean’s mother was stubborn, and after putting it off for so long with his parents not seeing hide nor hair of his _girl_ friend, she had simply stated she was coming over today to see who this Cas was who had him so enamoured to keep him in a committed relationship.

The only problem? His parents were expecting a pretty _woman_.

It wasn’t as if his parents were homophobic, after all his brother married Gabriel just a recently.

No, this was all Dean’s fault.

His parents didn’t care about race or gender, he had been brought up to believe everyone was equal. So, there was no reason for him to hide the fact that he’d rather suck a lollipop than lick it?

He rolled his eyes at that stupid analogy.

But, it was true. There was nothing wrong with his gorgeous boyfriend. He was not ashamed of Cas in the slightest. Cas was so very pretty, his soft dark hair that Dean loved to run his fingers through and hear his adorable purr every time he did so, his pale skin was like vanilla and tasted like caramel. God, he wanted to lick his skin and suck on his pretty lips. Dean knew Castiel would let him leave bruises on that gorgeous skin, he’d wear them with pride.

But Cas’s parents were strict, no sex before marriage. They hadn’t had sex yet, no. But that didn’t stop Cas. Oh god...the things they did. And he asked for nothing in return. It was surreal.

Castiel would just stare up at him with those large eyes, so blue Dean wanted to drown in them, and smile as he lost himself in his angel.

God, his laugh was infectious. His arms so warm and inviting when he held Dean close. He’d squeeze Dean to him, wanting to burrow deeper into his arms. Cas was so small and slight compared to him that he had to lean down to hug him, but he loved it. Cas was his angel, his omega.

He’d even loved his obsession with bees and nature, fuelled by his curiosity and love for all things geeky. But what Dean loved the most about Cas was the fact he thought everything Dean did, no matter how weird, was just him and he loved Dean for it. He let Dean be himself.

Fuck, he was so in love with his angel.

Nothing would change that.

He didn’t care what his parents thought. Girl or boy, it didn’t matter, they wouldn’t care. His Castiel was the one. But Cas was adamant on getting Dean’s parents approval of him.

Family meant everything to his Cas, they always came first. He had once jokingly asked Cas where he was in that long list. Cas had simply told him he was his. There was no list with Dean. The warm feeling Dean felt after hearing Cas say that was so good, it lasted for days after.

Oh god, he was acting like a twelve year old girl.

Was this going too fast?

He had met Cas’s family a few days back, albeit on accident, and they welcomed him with open arms. It was surprising, Cas had been so nervous, so jittery, so down right adorable it should be a sin. He was so worried that they wouldn’t approve of Dean.

He had tried really, really hard to be welcoming of them and their ways into his life, tried to be open minded and not tell them that he didn’t understand why they did half the things they did, or how different everything was from the way he did things back at home. He found their home life fascinating and he was really enjoying himself with their customs.

They were tolerating him after all, letting him into their house, being hospitable and welcoming. He didn’t want to be irksome and haughty.

But Cas was thinking ahead of him. Of course he was, and he had told Dean he wanted his parents’ blessings.

“What if we decide to get married?”

He had laughed it off as a joke, not wanting to pressure Dean into anything. But Dean knew what he wanted. He was in it for the long haul. Dean was his first, and hopefully last, boyfriend. His first everything. The one person Cas trusted enough with his heart.

Dean felt honoured.

Even though he knew he should be scared, nervous at the thought of commitment. He couldn’t help but think of a two story house with a white picket fence, a few kids and maybe a dog. Or a cat, he wasn’t picky. Just being able to wake up next to Cas every morning for the rest of their lives, make him breakfast because Cas would always start trying to make a sunny side up egg and it’d always end up scrambled, or his idea of pancake breakfast was a tower of almost-perfect pancakes that loomed over Dean on the table before he found a perfect one to give him and drowned it in maple syrup. Cas fixing Dean’s tie before he went off to work because he had learned all sorts of crazy knots when he was young and bored, sending silly text messages to one another throughout the day.

Finally coming home in the evening, exhausted from the day and just spending the rest of the night watching a new episode of their favourite TV shows, or talk about his latest nature craze or his obsession with the latest horror story. And Castiel was actually, truly interested in his favourite show too, Dr Sexy, MD. Then they’d go to bed and spend the night together, ending up sweaty and sticky, but satisfied. In love.

Oh…how he desperately wanted that.

_“He’s on a new skin regime trend, please don’t touch him,”_

Oh god. He was such an idiot. If he wanted to marry his man, and fuck did he want to, he really needed to get his parents approval. Or at least _tell_ them Cas was male. That was the unspoken ultimatum between them. He had done his part, now it was Castiel's turn.

Fuck. How was he going to tell his parents?

So lost in thought he didn’t even notice the brunette girl sit down next to him. She leaned closer to him, peering over his shoulder.

Dean rolled his eyes, turning his back to her.

“What are you writing?” She asked, her voice was slightly deep pitched, but it sounded familiar. Weird.

He darted his gaze to the dark haired woman, skimming over her tanned skin and too much make up, her dark eyes peering at him. She was a perfect example of what his parents were probably thinking Cas was.

Too bad he wasn’t interested.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his notebook. Maybe if he kept his answers short, she’d leave. “Figuring out how to break something to my parents,”

“Oh, what’s that?”

Aggravated, he looked up, eyebrow raised. “Not your problem,”

“Oh. Now come one, maybe I can help,” She smiled, running her fingers lightly over his arm.

Dean shivered, shifting away from her, focusing on his notepad. She raked her nails over his arm. He cleared his throat and shifted as far as he could from the brunette, pressing himself up against the arm rest.

What was this woman doing? Couldn’t she see he wasn’t interested in her?

He grimaced when she leaned up against him, pressing herself onto him as she tried to read what he was writing. He let out a loud breath through his nose, sucking at his top lip to try and stave off yelling at this woman.

Where was Castiel anyway? He should be here by now.

The woman let out a little laugh, it was pleasant, but he shrugged it off. When she laid her hand on his thigh, he stood up, pushing her back.

“I have a boyfriend,” He said through a snarl, “Who I want to marry, so back off.”

He heard her gasp. A smile reached his lips as he reached for his fallen notepad, at least she wouldn’t annoy him now.

“You…” Her voice was low, gravelly and very familiar. “You want to _marry_ me?”

Dean paused. What?

He glared incredulously at the brunette woman, narrowing his eyes and getting a good look at her. “Cas?”

Yup. That was his boyfriend, dressed in a feminine shirt and tight jeans. His eyes were a darker shade and lined with a pale pink eye shadow, and his hair was long, brown and curly. His skin, his beautiful pale skin, was a slightly tanned with makeup. And was that a _padded bra?_

He…didn’t look like his Castiel anymore.

Why was he dressed as a woman?

“Are those contacts?”

Castiel smiled brightly, his lips painted an oddly bright pink. “You want to marry me!”

“Well, I – stop changing the subject.” He tilted his head to one side in confusion, trying to understand what his boyfriend was doing. He slumped back on the bench. “What’s with the get up?”

Castiel settled next to him, holding out his hand. Dean automatically laced his fingers through Castiel’s and held him close. “Your parents were expecting—”

“No.” He said abruptly. No, this isn’t what he wanted. “You are not going to change yourself for my parents, you know they don’t care that you’re a man, hell Sam married _Gabriel._ ”

“But Dean,” Castiel squeezed his hand. “You haven’t told your parents…”

Dean let out a long, tired breath. This was infuriating, his beautiful, gorgeous, funny, smart, kind Castiel. Change himself?

This was all his fault.

Dean turned to him, gazing at those awfully dark eyes and equally disturbing long hair. He tightened his grasp on Castiel’s fingers, his heart knew deep down this was still his Castiel, but his eyes saw different.

“Look, I love you,” He started, his gaze darting all over the changes he saw on Castiel’s pretty face. “But I am not happy with this,”

To prove his point, he ran his fingers over Castiel’s tanned skin, grimacing at the powdery feeling it left on his fingers. He was leaving smudges on the man’s cheeks, but he still couldn't see Cas’s pale skin under it all.

“You’ve never worn make-up before,” Dean murmured, pulling him closer. Castiel automatically wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pressed his forehead on Dean’s chest.

“It feels awkward,” Castiel agreed, sighing loudly, his voice muffled by Dean’s shirt. “My face feels heavy and my eyes are itchy. I miss my glasses.”

Dean chuckled, urging him back. Castiel lifted his head from Dean’s chest and gazed at him, pink lips sticking out. “We will figure this out, I promise.”

Dean tried to see him through the make-up, wanting to pull the god awful curly mass from Castiel’s head and run his fingers through the man’s dark hair, wanted to kiss his lips and not feel the oily residue of the pink lipstick.

Castiel went through so much work for him, changed himself completely. “Damn it, I am an awful boyfriend!”

Castiel chuckled in that way Dean loved. He ran his fingers through Dean’s well-kept hair and ruffled the tips. “Yup, how dare you make me love you so much?”

Dean chuckled, leaning forward and tapping his lips against Castiel’s. “I want my parents to love you as much as I do,”

“Not in the same way I hope,”

Dean playfully tapped him on his forehead. “You’re impossible, angel.”

Castiel chuckled again. Dean leaned closer, kissing him lightly. They’d figure this out. He just had to tell his parents that Cas was a man, not a woman. And if, for whatever reason they didn’t understand, then Dean would just marry him anyway.

What if his parents didn’t like Cas?

Who _couldn’t_ like Cas, the man was a nervous ray of sunshine.

And who cares if they didn’t have a large wedding where both families were present? Or live in a large house where both families could get together every once in a while and have dinner. He’d work extra hard to make sure Cas was happy. To make sure he didn’t ever feel the loss of a mother and father in-laws.

He loved his angel, and he’d do anything for him.

“Dean darling, is that you?”

Dean jumped at the familiar sound. Fuck. That was his mothers’ voice.

“And who is this fine young lady?”

Dean's eyes widened even more. Dad!

His parents were here, early. Fuck!

Castiel’s dark gaze widened, he pushed Dean back and looked up at the man and woman standing a few ways away. He vaulted away from Dean and stood up, straightening out his clothes and smiling brightly. Stumbling slightly on his heels, he held his hand out for them to shake.

“Hello, you must be Dean’s parents,” Castiel said politely, willing his hands not to shake with nerves. “My name is Castiel.”

“Pleasure to meet you, dear,” The older woman, Mary Winchester, said, pulling off her sunglasses, her pretty green eyes roving over Castiel. “Castiel, that is a lovely name,”

The older man, John Winchester eyed Castiel wearily, taking a hold of his outstretched hand and shaking it vehemently.

Dean’s gaze narrowed with anger, he stood next to Castiel, taking a grasp of the man’s still-shaking hand. He saw Castiel visibly relax under his touch.

“Mom, dad, meet my boyfriend.” Dean said, a smiled rising to his lips. “Castiel Novak,”

The shock on the parent’s faces made Castiel wince, wanting to shrink behind Dean. What was his boyfriend trying to do?

“I’m sorry, what?” Mary asked, her eyes narrowing over Castiel. “ _Boy_ friend?”

“Right,” John cleared his throat. “I am John, and this is my wife, Mary,”

Nervously, Castiel bowed to greet him, but paused mid-bow. Shit…Why was he bowing? What the hell was he even doing?

Oh god, oh…god. He’s messed it all up. He’s fucked it all up! They don’t like him, they don’t want him here. Dean will hate him, Dean was going to leave him. Dean’s parents were going to make him leave Cas.

Dean slid his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, pulling him up from his bow and pressed his nervous body to his side. Dean knew he was going into a panic attack.

Thankfully his parents hadn’t said anything, or even noticed to be quite honest. They were commenting on his wig and makeup.

Oh god, did his parents think Cas liked dressing up like a girl?

Fuck…

“What are you two doing here?” Dean asked, placing himself between his parents and his boyfriend.

Mary wrinkled her nose cutely. “We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d check the area out.”

Dean nodded. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

“Why don’t we get an early dinner?”


	23. Chapter 23

Dean let out a long, tired breath.

His forest green gaze rose above the menu of the French restaurant they were sitting in. His parents were sitting opposite him, his still-long haired boyfriend sitting next to him. Castiel will still in that horrible get-up and was holding the menu close to his face, his pretty eyes squinting as he tried to read the swirls on the laminated paper. Dean tried to stifle a chuckle, he knew Cas couldn’t see a damn thing without his glasses.

He frowned. This was not how he wanted today to happen.

He had wanted his parents to meet his boyfriend, not this...long haired, dress and make up wearing, but still beautiful man sitting next to him.

He wanted to take them all to his home where he would cook them a nice meal. Be in a place that Castiel knew, and would feel comfortable in. Somewhere where he could take that stupid wig and that god awful make up off and show Dean’s parents that he wasn’t the pretty female, make-up wearing woman sitting in front of them. Cas was his beautiful, funny, kind and perfect boyfriend.

Instead his parents had sought the most expensive and pretentious restaurant in the entire town, saying they wanted to dine out with their son and his boyfriend. Because Castiel must be used to something like this. And here he was, sitting opposite his parents with his costumed boyfriend.

He knew his Castiel wasn’t used to this sort of place, hell neither was he. They’d usually go to the local diner and get some burgers or a pizza, or get Chinese take-away and sit in his house, eating, watching TV and just being together.

This was going to be a long night, he just knew it.

He felt Castiel’s fingers lightly graze his thigh. He ducked his head under them menu and turned to the man.

“Dean,” Castiel murmured through his teeth, hoping Dean’s parents didn’t hear him. “I don’t know what half of this stuff means,”

Oh, right. French restaurant, French menu. His pretty angel didn’t know French.

“Will you trust me to order for you?” He whispered back, he knew Castiel was picky about what he ate. He had a few allergies and had a certain way of eating. But beyond that, Castiel’s anxiety made him jittery, it made him want to get away from the problem, or whatever it was that made him anxious. Dean knew if he left Cas to it, he’d be unable to really understand what he was doing and might order something he didn’t want, or couldn’t eat.

Castiel’s fingers clenched on his thigh, but he nodded.

Wow...he...he'd let Dean order for him?

He felt a burst of warmth erupt inside him. God, this man was going to kill him.

The waiters chose that moment to arrive at their table. Dean quickly scanned the menu and chose something that would replicate what they usually ate. Castiel trusted him to feed him well, and he’d make sure to keep Castiel’s trust.

Dinner went off, pretty much without a hitch, which surprised Dean. Sure they had a few ups and downs, like when Castiel arranged the food on his plate by size and consistency. Thankfully Dean’s parents didn’t say anything, or do anything to aggravate Castiel further. This was just something he always did.

Dean did grimace at the wine his parents said they must have.

“He’s the first boyfriend you’ve ever let us meet,” Mary said with a wide smile, delicately placing her fork onto the plate. “Wine is a must,”

“Mom.” Dean tried, forcing a smile. “Castiel doesn’t drink alcohol,”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s thigh, holding him back from what must have been the start of a rampage. He could see the frustration in his darkened green eyes. But Castiel could also see the admiration in his parents’ eyes. They were glad Dean had found someone, he’d just have to make sure they liked  _ him  _ , and not his fake persona.

The make-up was getting heavier and heavier under the lights, his wig was starting to itch and his eyes were starting to water. He still could not see a damned thing under his colour contacts, but he would persevere.

This was for Dean. He’d do anything for him.

He’d…do anything…for him. Castiel’s eyes widened in realisation. This whole thing was supposed to be a joke, something to lighten Dean’s mood after the car ride back from his parents. Dean had looked so stressed, so worried.

But now…he knew. He would do anything for this man, for his alpha. Even if it meant that he’d have to wear this awful get up forever.

He’d do it. Because he loved Dean.

He loved him!

With a triumphant hum, he picked up the small twined fork and dug it into the pastry confection in front of him. When had they gotten to desserts?

Shrugging his shoulders, he smiled brightly and placed the – whatever it was – into his mouth. It tasted sweet, fruity and…nutty?

Oh god.

Nuts… _ nuts!  _ He was allergic to nuts! He wanted to spit it out, but that wouldn’t be proper. So instead, he vaulted from his seat and rushed to the nearest toilets.

He pushed open the door, seeing a few women inside Shit, he went into the wrong one! There was no point now, he had to get rid of this! He eyed the bin and promptly spit out the bite of whatever he had taken. Shivering in disgust, he rushed over to the sinks and started to wash, wash, wash his hands. Castiel scrubbed at his fingers, and gargled to get the taste from his mouth.

But he knew it was too late.

He felt the bathroom start to swirl and twirl amiably, his fingers grasping the sink shook and he fell to the ground in a dead faint.

~~

As soon as Castiel left the table, Dean was on him like a shot.

He saw Cas go into the womens’ toilets, instead of the men’s. He stood outside, knocking against the wood.

“Cas, baby, are you okay?” Dean yelled through the closed bathroom door, wanting desperately to go inside and see if he was okay. He had run from the table so quickly Dean didn’t have the chance to see what was wrong.

A woman came out of the bathroom and eyed him strangely. Dean held his hand up to her, stopping her in her place. “Excuse me, a dark haired woman just rushed in there, is he okay?”

“Oh, yes!” The woman said, holding the door open. “I’ve come out to call the staff, she’s fallen.”

Without hesitation, Dean pushed the door to the ladies toilets open and rushed inside. He saw a small group of women circling a fallen figure.

Dean felt the whole world around him crumble. “Cas…”

He bolted to Castiel’s side, kneeling on the ground and holding his head onto his lap. He placed a hand on Castiel’s wrist, checking his pulse, feeling the slightly elevated thrumming of his heart beating. He forced open Castiel’s closed eyes. It was difficult to tell what size his pupils were through the dark contacts. Those stupid, fucking things!

When Castiel would wake up, he’d tell him never to wear those stupid things to change his appearance. His parents will just have to understand he was not the poster-child they wanted. He was going to marry this man whether they like it or not. When Castiel woke up, he’d make sure he never had to go through something as fucked up as this.

Cas’s pupils _ were  _ dilated. His breath was coming out in short gasps.

Fuck.

“Bag!” He yelled at the women around him, watching him work. “Where’s his bag?”

One of the women pushed the leather material into his hands, Dean yanked the zip open and rifled through his things. He felt a familiar glass cylinder and pulled it out. Cas’s epi-pen. Pulling the cap off with his teeth, he lifted the skirt and jammed the needle into his thigh.

A few seconds later, Castiel sucked in a deep breath, his back arching into Dean as the epinephrine coursed through his body.

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and held him close. Dean was never going to let him go now.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” He repeated like a mantra, murmuring into Castiel’s hair. He pulled the wig off and tangled his fingers into Castiel’s dark hair.

Dean had almost lost him!

“Dean…Dean…” Castiel coughed a few times, sucking in more oxygen as his breathing slowly regulated. “What—”

“Don’t you fucking dare do that to me again,” He growled into Castiel’s hair, holding his body tight. Castiel shook his head, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck, his dry lips moistening on Dean’s skin, sucking in his scent.

“Dean…” He sucked in a few more breaths and froze. Dean paused, leaning back to see Castiel’s dark blue eyes glazed over, and his heartbeat quicken again.

Oh shit, Dean should have moved him from the floor. He should have laid Cas’s body on his, or put the man in his lap, something. Anything was better than his OCD anxious boyfriend waking up from an allergy scare to find he had been lying down on a public bathroom floor.

_ Fuck. _

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Castiel said through quick breaths. “I…I’m going into a panic attack,”

Dean shook his head, pulling Castiel back so he could look into those gorgeous Kansas blue eyes, his hold on Castiel’s shoulders not wavering from their grip once. “Cas, look at me.”

Castiel complied, trusting his boyfriend, his love, his anchor.

“You are going to be fine.” He bored his eyes into Castiel, forcing the man to look at him. Castiel needed clear cut instructions to get out of his panic attack. “I am going to pick you up in my arms and take you to my car, I’ll take you to your house, give you a bath, put you in your blue pyjamas and then we’ll watch something on TV.”

“Okay,” He gasped out, his breathing quickened. Dean pressed his forehead against Castiel’s, urging the man to breath in sync with him. Castiel let out a breath, murmuring into his neck.

“You ready?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. Dean stood up, lifting the man into his arms and walked out of the ladies bathrooms, holding his love as close as possible. He knew he should tell his parents that they were leaving, but he hadn’t mentioned that to Cas. If he diverged from what he told the man, Cas could go into an even deeper attack.

He would never forget what Sam had told him about his attacks. The terror in Cas’s eyes, barely able to breathe, the long wait in the hospital. Sam had been so worried when he told Dean, that was one of the reasons Dean had jumped at the chance to help Cas out. He just didn’t expect to fall in love with the man.

But Dean would make sure Cas would never feel like that again.

They arrived at his home a few mere moments later, Dean had informed his parents of what had happened and that they would postpone the dinner to another night.

His omega needed him now.


	24. Chapter 24

The had parked and Dean had lifted Castiel up from the car, held him close and carried him, bridal style, all the way up to his apartment.

Dean stopped in front of the bathroom, knowing Castiel needed to get his costume off to feel better, to get back to what he thought was normal.

Panic was written in his eyes and in the fear that showed on his face. Dean felt the need to ease his fears.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Cas,” Dean said softly.

Castiel shook his head and Dean watched as the loosened tendrils of the faux hair glided around his face, making him look softer than Dean had ever seen. Dean stopped him from stepping away, taking Castiel’s chin in his hand and guiding his face closer.

Was Dean going to kiss him? Castiel closed his eyes, fear and anticipation gripping him. He felt something cold and wet pat across his face. Blinking his eyes open, he saw Dean wiping away the make up with a wet wipe. Castiel watched him with awe, Dean was being so careful with him. It made his heart swell.

Oh…alpha.

Once Dean was done, he pulled Castiel closer to him, hugging the man tight to his chest. Castiel fell into him, clutching tightly at his shirt. Dean was so perfect, and Castiel was…

…worthless, pathetic…not good enough.

“I’m here, don’t cry.” Dean murmured to him, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair. Castiel let out a whimper and buried his head in Dean’s chest. He took in a deep breath in, glad Castiel was complying. He paused, his voice in a low growl. “What is that flowery scent?”

Castiel gasped at the intensity of his voice. Ooh…god.

“P-perfume,” Castiel murmured, knowing he had put on too much. Why wasn’t he good at things like this? He heard Dean mumble something under his breath, but didn’t catch what it was. Dean instead pulled Castiel’s head back to his chest, running his fingers through the man’s hair. But Dean paused, his fingers grasping at the wiry dark clumps.

What in the world had Castiel done to his soft hair?

“What happened to your hair? Did you do something before you put that wig on?”

Castiel let out a small moan when Dean tugged his hair back. “It’s hair spray, so the wig wouldn’t fall off.”

Dean pulled Castiel back, holding him at arm’s length and took a good long look at him. Castiel turned red as Dean’s intense gaze roved over him.

“I don’t like it.” He said ultimately, standing up and pulling Castiel up with him.

Castiel couldn't help but be tugged along. Dean pulled him into the bathroom and sat him at the edge of the porcelain bath tub.

“Sit,” He commanded Castiel, using that voice that made Castiel’s pulse quicken. He obeyed and stayed on the edge of the tub. Dean dropped down onto his knees in front of Castiel. Castiel shrieked, pulling his feet away.

“Wh-what are you doing?” He whispered harshly.

Ignoring him, Dean took a tight hold of Castiel’s ankle and pulled his leg to him. “Why are you wearing girly shoes?”

Castiel closed his eyes and let out a long breath as he allowed Dean to do as he pleased with him. Dean’s fingers skittered around his ankles, his very touch like fire. God, Castiel loved him so much.

“People say they make you look sexier…”

“You definitely don't need that.” Castiel turned a shade of red at what Dean was implying. Dean continued, unstrapping the heeled shoes from his feet and throwing them behind him. They clattered on the tiles.

Castiel sighed out loud. It was so easy to get addicted to this, to him. Oh, who was he kidding, he already was hooked to Dean. He loved Dean so deeply. His eyes followed Dean’s every move, his ears attune to his every breath…his voice. Oh, his voice made Castiel squirm in all the right places. It made him hot, made Castiel want to rip off his shirt and take a bite of his neck. Oh, there was never an inkling of a drop when Dean was around.

“How dare you hide your gorgeous legs from me?” Dean growled, pinching the back of his calf, tugging at his stockings. God, Castiel went all out to dress up as a girl, for _ him! _

Castiel gasped at the surprisingly pleasurable feeling he felt. Who knew the back of the knee was an erogenous zone?

Castiel let out a gasp as Dean brushed his warm fingers absentmindedly up his stocking covered leg until he reached Castiel’s bare thigh. His touch sent bolts of lightning through Castiel body. The kind of lightening that made him want to open up to Dean, rather than his usual curling away and running as far as he could.

Castiel shivered. He was truly convinced that Dean Winchester was the only man who could make him feel this way.

Dean’s heated fingers curled under the hem of Castiel’s stockings and he pulled them down slowly. Castiel moaned, wriggling in his grasp, hoping for more contact. His heart was beating in his ears and he felt completely out of control. His body was revelling in his head, telling him that this was all he needed. Castiel closed his eyes, his body thrumming at the sensations, his fingers gripped the edge of the tub in anticipation.

Oh god, Dean hadn’t even touched him and he was about to cum. How…how was this possible? There was no panic attack, no drop. His skin was tingling with heat, of the good kind.

Castiel groaned and opened his eyes, gasping when he looked up to see Dean towering above his. His cheeks turned red. Goodness…he was acting so wonton, Dean was only taking his shoes off.

“Just relax now,” Dean’s voice was soft, yet demanding. And Castiel  felt his body immediately unwind. What Dean’s voice did to him…

Dean smirked, taking Castiel’s chin in his hand and guided his mouth to his own. Castiel’s mouth softened beneath his and Dean heard his breathing quicken. More importantly, Castiel didn’t pull away.

Reaching around his head, Dean did the thing he’d thought of doing ever since he saw Castiel’s hair in that ridiculous wig – he tugged the clips free and let the wig fall to the ground. Sliding his fingers through his hair, he tugged Castiel’s towards him, holding him close as he deepened the kiss. He tilted his head and possessed Castiel’s mouth as he’d recently fantasised about doing…and he did it over and over until they were both breathless.

“God you are so beautiful.” He murmured. Castiel shook his head, denying such a fact.

Dean thought he looked beautiful? No. No, no, no. His hair was a nest of frizz right now, the hairspray tangling his tendrils into a mess. The make-up Dean had wiped off was smudged from where he’d missed, streaks of mascara running down his cheeks, his deep red lipstick smudged over his mouth from Dean’s kisses.

He looked horrid. How could Dean think him beautiful?

Castiel watched him through each kiss and Dean saw disbelief within his dark blue eyes. Castiel doubted him? This angel of temptation was still thinking he was not beautiful?

Did he not see what Dean saw?

His eyes were drowning Dean in his liquid lust, his body arching gracefully into Dean’s, teasing him, just begging for his touch. Castiel looked like he wanted to be ravished, and Dean wanted desperately to eat him up.

“You look so calm, so relaxed. So very wonderful,”

Dean understood and he knew Castiel’s body did as well, even though Castiel himself might deny it. There was no denying the heat in his cheeks, his ragged breath, the feel of his quickened heartbeat under Dean’s lips.

Blood thundered through Dean’s veins, lust heating it and pushing it faster and hotter through him. He took in and released several deep breaths, needing his control. He held Castiel’s face near his, kissing him more gently now, and sliding his other hand down Castiel’s neck and shoulders and skimming over the curve of his hips.

Castiel gasped at the feel of such a caress.

Castiel waited for the inevitable as he enjoyed Dean’s kisses. Dean’s tongue slipped into his mouth when he gasped and touched his, sending shivers and chills throughout his body. As Dean’s hand moved away from his head and his fingers touched Castiel’s chest, caressing his nipples, and then eased down over his belly, strange coils of tension began to twist deep within Castiel. Just when he thought Dean would touch him  _ there,  _ Dean paused and kissed him more fiercely, before resting his hand on Castiel’s hip.

Sensations unlike anything he’d felt raced through Castiel’s blood and his heart and his body, urging him to move closer, to open to Dean and to this enticing heat that built from within him. When Dean stopped and lifted his head, Castiel recognized the look in his dark green eyes. It was the same as he was feeling. Lust, need, desire.

Love.

“Take off your clothes,” Dean said, his voice deeper than usual.

He was using that commanding voice with Castiel, but all he could think of was how intense Dean’s touch was, how pleasant and pleasurable it was compared to any other time Dean touched him, held his hand, held him close. This was different, this was urgent. This…

This was love…

“I…” Castiel said, shaking his head and laughing hesitantly. “I guess I don’t suit this,”

The expression that filled Dean’s eyes then made Castiel lose his breath. It was hot and lustful and aimed at him. Dean dipped his head closer to Castiel’s ear.

“Take. It. Off.”

Castiel’s body grew heated and his cock and a strange and wondrous ache began to throb within him. The urge to rub against Dean and the hardness of his strong body grew and Castiel felt himself arch against the man. Oh god, Dean’s voice was pure sin.

Before Castiel knew what he was about to do, Dean had scooped him up in his arms. Castiel wanted to ask him so many things but the feelings racing through him pushed all of his questions and doubts aside as he allowed Dean to hold his close.

“Trust me, Cas.” This time Dean’s words were spoken softly, a plea more than an order and it warmed him.

Pulling back, Castiel put himself directly in Dean’s line of sight. Castiel was well aware that to an outsider what he was about to do might seem bizarre, but there was no one there but himself and Dean. Feeling a strange mixture of hope and erotic need, he began to slowly take his dress off.

Of course the dress was extremely tight on him and he didn’t exactly look sexy, but he took it off as calmly as he could, working his hips and pushing the tight dress down his legs.

Was Dean enjoying this? Castiel couldn’t be sure but he thought Dean was. He was down to his underwear now, a pair in navy blue briefs that made his skin look creamy and soft.

“That underwear looks very uncomfortable,” Dean murmured, so quietly Castiel had to strain to hear him. “Take them off,”

Castiel had never done this before, never exposed himself willingly to a lover like this and he couldn’t help but feel like his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest.

But this was for Dean…

Castiel was definitely Dean-sexual.

Swallowing his shyness, Castiel reached down to the waistband of his briefs, he didn’t understand how it was so easy for him to expose himself like this to Dean. It felt so natural and perfect he knew it was right at once.

He didn’t want this to stop, he wanted Dean to touch him more. Dean answered his plea by leaning forward and nuzzling his chest. Castiel gasped and looked down to see his eyes had turned darker, filled with hunger. Dean wanted him – needed him.

“Alpha…” Castiel whispered, pressing forward to rub against him, God his scratchy cheeks felt so good against his tender flesh.

“My sweet little omega,” Dean’s voice sounded hoarse, but the longing in his tone could not be denied. He hooked his finger under the hem of Castiel’s underwear and helped Castiel pull it down, all the way off his body.

“Dean…” Castiel stood before him, completely naked.

But Dean stopped, moving Castiel to the centre of the bathroom. He turned the shower on. A sudden blast of hot water steamed the room quickly. He quickly took off his blazer and placed it around Castiel, keeping him warm while he unbuttoned his shirt.

Castiel sucked in a breath, the scent of Dean from his blazer calming his nerves. He could do this, it felt right.

Dean’s firm hands wrapped around him, trapping Castiel against his side. His hard, muscular body pinned Castiel against the shower tiles.

Castiel’s mind whirled. Was he really going to do this? Would he be  _ able  _ to do this? Or would he just freeze up and have a panic attack in the middle of it all?

His heart hammered against his chest, cutting his breath into shocked fragments.

“I’m not going to hurt you, angel,” Dean murmured, his breath was hot against Castiel’s ear. Damn, he was strong, his grip tightened to iron.

“Alpha,” Castiel yelled, grasping at Dean’s shirt and tugging it from his body.

“Oh my little angel. Just can’t help yourself, can you?” Then he bit Castiel’s ear softly, just enough to send a hot rush straight through his body and make him moan. Castiel froze, this feeling was new, he needed a moment to come into terms with this.

Did he want to have sex with Dean?

Dean paused. “Want me to stop?”

Castiel shook his head. “No penetration—”

Dean chuckled, his eyes were dark with desire. His bow shaped lips curled into a smile, driving Castiel wild. “We’ll get to that when we’re married,”

Castiel gasped. When they were married!

The way he whispered such sweet seductions in Castiel’s ear, and slowly kissed his neck, it was enough to drive Castiel mad with desire. Dean’s body felt fit and fine toned as it pressed against his in a shameful way.

He grabbed Castiel’s hips, pressing his bare against his clothed length, grinding slowly, making Castiel gasp and moan loudly. Dean raked his fingers through Castiel hair and angled his head. Castiel moaned. He was trapped against Dean’s warm, delicious weight pressed against every inch of him. Taking in a ragged breath, Castiel found he couldn’t do anything other than stare at Dean. Dean gave him a predatory look that made Castiel shiver. “I promised you a shower,”

His steely look made Castiel shiver, but he nodded. Dean turned them to the hot water and held Castiel under the streams. Castiel sucked in a breath at the sudden warmth hitting his skin. But Dean’s fingers were hotter.

He watched Dean, unable to move, as the man reached for the wash cloth, squirting shower gel into it. He ran the washcloth down Castiel’s arms and body, slowly yet methodically cleaning him. Castiel felt something twist in his abdomen while his heart did a strange tumble at Dean’s warm scent.

His other hand running along Castiel’s neck, tenderizing the skin. The sight of it made Dean groan his eyes flashed dark with desire and he fought valiantly against the chains that held him back, yearning, aching, wanting oh-so-badly to taste Castiel …

“Oh, angel,” he purred, feeling Castiel shudder at the sound. Getting a hold of himself, he ran his free hand down Castiel’s soapy pale side. He felt Castiel’s body shudder and Dean strained to  _ not _ lunge at his soft flesh, to sink his teeth deeply into Castiel’s neck.

No obvious marks. Castiel was a teacher after all.

Dean could hear Castiel’s heartbeat pounding as his hands glided down Castiel’s thighs; rising up to his sides once again, pressed the washcloth lightly on him.

Several shivers ran down Castiel’s spine and Dean began to feel slightly aroused at his mewled moans. He leaned down, blowing lightly into Castiel’s ear. He could see quite well even in the steam filled bathroom, and he know that Castiel, while not the skinniest, was very attractive, fuelling his growing lust.

Blushing at how Dean was touching him  _ everywhere, _ Castiel licked his lips nervously, looking anywhere but up to Dean’s face.

“Look at me.” The voice was deeper, rougher with a strange grating to it that made Castiel coil up in fear. He gulped and looked up, his breath rushing out of his in a soft ‘ _ whoosh’ _ as he was caught by Dean’s bright eyes.

“Marry me,”

A voice inside Castiel shouted in joy before he quickly stifled it, looking at Dean closely as he stared down at Castiel with an unreadable expression. Something tore at Castiel’s insides, making his throat clench. He gulped as Dean bent down, his nose touching Castiel’s as he gave a noisy sniff, deeply inhaling his smell.

“Don’t refuse me?” Dean paused and he moved his head slightly to allow the overhead lights to hit his face slightly. Castiel froze as the reality of what he was now struck him like a brick wall.

_ Marry Dean! _

“Yes.” He murmured, almost instantly.

With lips forming a smirk Dean gave his outer earlobe a lick, his teeth scratching Castiel’s skin ever so gently.

Thoughts came to a screeching halt, Castiel felt his motor skills go out of the window as he shivered uncontrollably; his stomach suddenly gave a strange little lurch. Dean’s large hands rubbed themselves against Castiel’s back. Dean’s breath was hot, next to his ear, yet Dean was so gentle.

He moved towards Castiel’s mouth, delicately at first, as though if he were to press to hard he would break the man. Then his mouth slanted on Castiel’s lips fiercely. Oh, who knew someone could use a tongue like  _ that _ ?

Wet and hot. Dean relished his shock, taking advantage of Castiel’s pliant lips and tongue, prying his way viciously into the man’s mouth and sucking on his tongue, his breath coming out in pants. Growling deep in his chest Castiel felt it in his bones and he gasped, shivering. Dean used the gasp, tilting his head slightly and with that tiny movement his tongue began egging Castiel’s own to move, to respond.

Numbly Castiel responded slowly, his body tightened as he touched Dean’s tongue. Dean grinned against his mouth, pulling back slightly.

“ _ My _ pretty angel.” It wasn’t a question, more like a demand. Castiel felt slightly justified that he wasn’t the only one breathing a bit heavier but he knew he was bright red.

Castiel had never felt so hot before, it was similar to a fever but without the feeling of a headache or sore throat. Without even realizing his neck craned slightly, allowing Dean’s tongue to sear even more deeply into his mouth. Everything seemed hazy, nothing felt real.

“Yes!” He said, louder this time. “Yes! I want to marry you!”

Dean’s hot fingers touched the graceful arch of his sides, running down along the slope to his waist. Castiel wondered how his touch could leave him so incredibly overheated.

He felt Dean’s cock against his stomach, pressing against his own hard cock, but he didn’t have the chance to look down to see what Dean was doing. His mouth grasping at unknown and unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, Dean’s teeth tugged at Castiel’s bottom lip.

Castiel tried to look at him, to see him. But when Castiel saw Dean’s dark, intense eyes watching him; fiercely glaring at his every expression as he kissed his way down Castiel’s stomach, Castiel had to look away for fear of what his own vulnerable eyes might reveal.

Dean dug his teeth in Castiel’s stomach, making his mind reel with new and sweet tingling shivers sent straight to his nerves.

“You’ve made me the happiest person ever.” Dean muttered to him, licking at the marks he had made on Castiel’s skin. His dark eyes fluttered open to lock with Castiel’s. “ _ My _ angel,  _ my  _ omega,  _ my Castiel. _ ”

“Yours! Yes! Yours!” Castiel gasped when Dean’s teeth grazed his over sensitive skin. His body grew more and more heated under Dean’s gaze, ever the more yielding. Dean’s weight sinking down on his was marvellous and exotic. So completely frightening, but luring and exciting.

“Please…alpha!” Dean was amazed at the response Castiel gave him.

But Castiel froze. Dean’s gaze immediately rose to his, had Castiel dropped? Had he gone into another panic attack?

“Your parent’s are outside!” Castiel gasped, unable to find his voice as Dean’s fingers traced random patterns on his arm.

Castiel’s words pleased him. His innocence. Untouched and free of corruption. Untainted. Dean wanted to stain him forever with his essence.

He still couldn’t believe Castiel had said yes!

“We can’t give bad impression to your future parent-in-laws.” Castiel heard Dean chuckle over him. His words sent a chill down Castiel’s spine.

Dean was his fiancé…

Dean slowly lowered his head to the crook of Castiel’s neck. Nuzzling and kissing and teasing with his hot lips, drawling out the moment of tight, tense fear for him. Something changed in his mood then, so quickly it frightened Castiel. Dean smirked, his eyes turning mischievous and dangerous. Castiel was paralysed beneath him, feeling like he was lying in the arms of a predator. His heart hammered in his chest, excited.

“Don’t scream,” Dean murmured into his ear. He dipped his head down and his lips grazed against Castiel’s neck. His mouth fell open when Dean’s teeth nipped his skin ever so carefully. His neck was always extra sensitive. That one touch felt like Dean had shot a bolt of electricity through his whole body. He tried so hard to bite back a scream, but he couldn’t help but moan Dean’s name out loud.

Dean lifted his head and caught Castiel’s open mouth in a kiss so impossibly slow, Castiel thought he would unravel beneath Dean. His lips were so soft and persuasive against Castiel’s and he made sure he had captured Castiel full attention before his hands began to wander.

“Alpha,” He gasped.

Everything was…perfect.

 

~The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys~!  
> Thanks for reading it this far!  
> And for those who commented or kudosed, love you~!


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